Up on the wall defenders slowly fell to the widening wedge of the dead atop the wall. Constan dispatched one after another, but he couldn’t kill them fast enough, and the breach continued to grow. During a brief respite, he yelled down to the artillerymen below, “Get up here, grab a Spatha from one of the fallen and fight!” Then the fury of the damned was upon him once more and each moment was a struggle to stay alive.
Athos brought his ax down into the forehead of the snarling creature in front of him. Sensing movement, he turned to his left to face the threat. It was too late, the growling creature was an inch from his face. Suddenly the face went limp, and the point of a gladius burst through its mouth, ending the beast’s unholy existence.
“Thanks, Athea.” Before she could reply Athos saw one of the damned grabbing for her exposed, unarmored back. As she smiled at his sincere gratitude he swung his ax over her left shoulder. Her smile turned to horror as she thought he was trying to kill her. The ax whipped by so close to her ear, she could hear the dull hum of the blade as it sliced through the air. With a crunch, the ax split the forehead of the damned trying to bite her sending purple ichor spraying down her back.
Athea spun and saw the damned collapsing in a heap behind her. It was the last damned inside the formation. Before another could dive into the hole, Athos grabbed the fallen shield and heaved it into place. Once again the testudo formation they fought from was sound. Athos smiled down at Athea as his tired muscles held the shield, “I never stopped loving you. I’ve been such a fool.”
Their eyes locked and Athea smiled up at him, “I didn’t understand how the sensitive man I fell in love with could be so blind and full of hatred.” Athos began frowning and opened his mouth to speak, but Athea placed a finger on his lips to quiet him, “Let me finish. Now I understand. This experience, against the damned, changes you, makes you see things differently.”
A damned landed on the top of the shield that Athos held aloft. His muscles strained to hold it in place. The creature, mercifully a child, started pounding on the shield to get at them. Standing on her tippy toes, Athea slew the creature with her gladius. Their eyes locked and she smiled at him again, “We were both fools.” She murmured.
“If we survive this madness can we be fools together?”
“I’d like that,” Athea replied. She placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled his face down to hers. As their lips locked another member of the horde landed on Athos’ shield and pounded on the outside.
Breaking the embrace, she whispered, “Excuse me.” She drew her gladius and jammed the point into the beast’s forehead. It instantly went limp and began sliding down the shield toward the edge of the formation. Sheathing the gladius once more, she picked up where she had left off, and they kissed.
On the wall, things were getting desperate. The damned were on the verge of breaking completely through. Constan despaired, but he had one card left to play. Before he could act, one of the damned clamored over the wall and hurled itself at him.
He raised his shield, and the creature smashed into it. Long arms grasped at him trying to get around the shield. With practiced skill, he slew it and kicked the body into another damned cresting the wall. The damned howled in frustration as its legs got tangled up in the corpse causing it to lose its balance and fall backward.
Before the minion of Satan could hit the ground another hurled itself at Constan. He sidestepped, and the creature went rushing past. As it did so, he swung his Spatha at it and severed its head. Both head and body tumbled over the side of the wall and fell into the city.
Finally, with a moment to spare, he looked around frantically for the item he needed. His eyes found it. Just a few feet away was the horn. Another of the damned erupted over the wall. Constan, distracted by his search was forced to the ground as the creature landed on his back pinning both of his arms underneath. He worked desperately to try and shake it off of him.
Rolling to his right, the damned’s body slid off of his back but held on, arms wrapped around his waist. The creature’s legs now dangled over the open air above the city. His left hand now free, Constan drew his dagger and stabbed it in the top of the head. The eyes went blank, and it fell away, taking his dagger with it.
Constan rolled away from the edge, scooped up the horn and blew it as hard as he could. From the other side of the city, a cornu answered his call. Moments past and the desperate fighting on the wall continued. The defenders fought heroically with superhuman effort to keep the darkness at bay, but their line continued to waiver.
It started as a dull rumble off to the north and south. In-between desperate fights for survival the defenders on the wall stole glances in those two directions. As the rumble grew closer, they could see dust billowing in the air. Without warning, thunder crashed overhead, and a streak of lightning flashed across the sky making the night turn to day for a brief moment.
Constan despaired. There were still thousands of the damned pressed up against the city walls. To complicate matters further, the fall rains had arrived. A few drops at first, then many. Footing became treacherous, and the wall, already slick with the blood of both attackers and defenders became impossible to grip. The tidal wave of the damned crashing over it became a trickle as the rain continued to fall.
Unable to climb the wall, the damned turned their full fury toward Athos’ testudo formation. They pounded on the shields, and the ladies brought them down in droves with their stabbing gladiuses. The press of the damned behind the attackers was so immense that even in death the slain corpses pushed up against the shields, held upright by the hordes behind them.
The large men of Athos’ testudo unit pushed back with their last reserves of strength to hold back the night. As the rain continued to pour tired fingers began losing their grip on slippery metal. It wasn’t long before the inevitable came to pass, a breach in the wall of shields. The breach came beside Vadim. The damned flooded into the rupture in the wall. Athos screamed, “Hadad get some of the ladies to plug that hole!”
Unable to simply stand by and get bit without defending himself, Vadim dropped his shield and drew his ax. Several snarling damned hurled themselves at him all at once. He swung his ax in an arc at head level directly in front of him as the trio advanced to feast upon him. The ax, powered by his immense strength, cleaved through all three heads and they fell before him.
Sensing another threat behind him, Vadim looked to his left. His end was hurtling toward him in the form of yellow teeth and fetid breath. Too late he began to duck when a sudden thrust of a gladius ended the threat. Smiling Damon said, “It’s a good thing you didn’t slay me during our training match!”
Vadim began to smile and nod when he felt teeth close around his left ankle. He screamed as the teeth penetrated his skin. As he attempted to pull his leg back, another of the damned bit into his abdomen, then a third bit into the soft flesh of his inner thigh. A few moments later Vadim transitioned from an Ironman into another of Satan’s minions intent on feasting upon living flesh.
It took Vadim’s mind a second to register the smell, Living flesh! Whirling around the newly undead Vadim hurled himself at the man that had tried to rescue him. Damon brought his small gladius up and blocked Vadim’s path to his flesh, but the newly damned’s immense strength knocked Damon to the ground.
Damon grabbed one of the large shields laying on the ground and pulled it over top of him. Vadim snarled and pounded on the shield trying to get at him. Their eyes locked through the slit in the shield. Damon studied the milky white eyes of his former comrade. As he did so, Vadim’s eyes began to swirl. Just as a storm raged overhead within Vadim’s eyes, the clouds swirled and raged above.
Vadim closed his eyes for a moment and stopped pounding on Damon’s shield. Damon took a deep breath and relaxed for a moment, “That’s it my friend you don’t want to kill me.” Vadim’s eyes snapped back open. His pupils had returned. Instead of the brown orbs they had been in life they glared down at Damon with bright red fury.
Vadim ripped the shield from Damon’s grip. He then raised it above him, screamed and cast it as hard as he could away. Just a few feet away from Damon, Athos, Liana, and Athea were also struggling to stay alive for a few more seconds. Now fighting back to back amidst the collapsed shield fort.
The bodies of friend and foe alike were stacked up around the three as the trio fought desperately to survive. At the sound of Vadim’s scream, Athos looked over and saw Damon. Damon smiled at Athos one final time and looked up at Vadim. To Damon, it seemed like Vadim was moving in slow motion as he bared his teeth and dove for Damon’s neck.
As Vadim reached for Damon, the former Skutatoi was struck in the side by a galloping horse. The force of the horse impacting his side sent him flying through the air. Damon laid in shock as dozens of horses leaped over him. He laid on the ground in awe as the perfect blend between man and beast charged over him.
The Persian Cataphracts were the inspiration for their own Kataphractoi. Both man and horse were encased in a heavy layer of scale armor. As the horses smashed into the damned, their armored breasts crushed and killed them by the score. The armored rider would swing his sword racking up dozens of kills in the space of a few seconds.
Athos grabbed Liana and Athea and held them still as dozens of Persian Cataphracts rushed by mere inches away from them and smashed the damned into pulp. He continued to wave his arms back and forth to show the Persian riders that they were human. Luckily for them, the almost continuous lightning from the storm lit up the battlefield enabling the Persians to ride skillfully around them.
The moment the charging Cataphracts were clear Athos bellowed, “Don’t just stand there in a daze, you louts. Get back to the gates!”
The survivors of Athos’ shield fort ran for the gate. Sadly what began as a formation of one hundred shield bearing brutes and one hundred gladius wielding ladies had been reduced to less than a dozen survivors. The group raced across the drawbridge. As they arrived at the closed and barred door, Athos drew his Spatha and struck the door three times with the pommel and yelled, “Special Operations Group requesting entrance!”
After a few moments, the window opened, and Zahid’s grinning face stared back at Athos, “Please open the gate, Zahid. We won’t last very long out here.”
Zahid laughed at Athos, “No, I think not.”
“You bastard! If it's me you want dead, fine. At least let everyone else in.”
“No, I think you should have the privilege of watching your command die to the last, especially Athea.”
Athos trembled with fury. Noticing that he was still holding his Spatha, he struck Zahid in the nose with the pommel. Zahid’s nose exploded in a spray of blood, and he fell backward from the opening. Athos then turned and tried to organize his survivors into a line stretching across the drawbridge.
“We can do this. We just have to hold the damned for a little while, and the gate will be opened to us.”
They didn’t have long to wait for the damned. Though the charge of the Persian Cataphracts devastated the undead that had surrounded them. There were still many more thousands to take their place. They looked upon Athos’ remaining thin line of men and women hungrily. As the two groups gazed at each other, the rain poured down. Red blood and purple ichor swirled together and washed into the moat making footing on the drawbridge treacherous.
Along with Athos, Damon, Athea, Liana, and seven others formed the thin line that stretched across the drawbridge, “Let’s hold them on the edge, so we’ll have room to retreat.” Athos’ voice issued the order with a calmness he wasn’t feeling.
Inside he was frantic, “How are we going to survive if Zahid won’t let us in and the damned still have thousands wanting to turn us into dinner?”
The Nikas personality still embedded in his mind answered, “You must wait for an opportunity to change the situation. Things seem hopeless now, but in every battle as events ebb and flow opportunities appear. You will need to exploit such an opportunity to see the next sunrise.”
Athos cringed, “Basically we need to get lucky?”
A mental image of Nikas nodding appeared in Athos’ mind, “Aye.”
“Great! What’s the point of being crazy and having a battle-hardened commander as your split personality if he can’t come up with a solution to this battlefield problem?”
The Nikas personality laughed, “There isn’t a point. Isn’t that the point of being crazy?”
Before Athos could respond to the Nikas personality, the damned reached his thin line. Despite the short amount of training, they received the men and women that remained of Athos’ command fought as one. They protected each other, risked themselves to ensure the line held, and slew the damned by the score. Would it be enough?
Chapter 36
Early Morning September 29th 636, Damascus, Syria Province, Byzantium
Victory or Dinner?
The rain poured, thunder boomed overhead, and the lightning flashed across the sky. Constan fought desperately atop the walls as damned after damned clambered up onto the palisade and tried to turn him into a meal. Thanks to the chaos of the shifting tides of battle the units atop the walls had become mixed up, and Otis and Hagan of the 2nd Kentarchia were fighting beside Constan.
All three men showed their age as they wheezed their way from one opponent to the next. They worked in concert as only soldiers trained as Skutatoi could, block, thrust, swing, push, rinse and repeat. Each man relished the seconds between each foe, as they gained a few precious moments to take a deep breath.
Since the early days of their training, Otis and Hagan had embraced their new lot in life. Gone was the portly, middle-aged, wine loving Damascus City Guardsmen. Their transition to battle hardened Skutatoi had entered its final phase. As the two men fought like brothers, each looking out for the other, Constan marveled, “That’s it, keep giving it to those rotting bastards!”
The personal words of encouragement from their Tourmarches helped to steel the two men’s resolve and gave them new energy. The trio engaged the next foe in line. Hagan and Constan blocked its attack with their shields while Otis delivered the killing blow. As the now permanently dead corpse was pushed forward by the two shield bearers, it was grabbed from behind and hurled over the wall.
Announcing his arrival with a roar, Vadim pulled himself onto the palisade while the stunned men looked on. Just as quickly as the new confidence came, it left them. Otis’ eyes widened in recognition of who it was the trio faced, “God in heaven, Vadim.” His voice cracked as he said the words.
Constan sounding more confident than he felt as he looked up at the hulking damned in front of him, “It’s just another damned. Together like we’ve been doing all night.”
Oddly the undead brute paused and stared at the two men in front of him. Recognition seemed to flash across his face for the briefest moment. At the instant, the recognition appeared the corners of his lips turned slightly upward as if to smile. The moment quickly evaporated as the hunger took over. With another roar, he grabbed Hagan’s shield and ripped it from his grasp. Shocked, Hagan and Otis looked on as Vadim lunged for Hagan.
Constan, reacting quickly, swung his Spatha at Vadim’s head. It was too late. The blade passed a hair’s width above the undead goliath's head as he lunged downward at Hagan. Wrapping his arms around him, he bit Hagan’s neck.
Otis finally snapping out of his shock yelled, “No!” and pushed Vadim away from Hagan with his shield. Otis succeeded in his effort, and Vadim stumbled several steps backward. Furious at the interruption to his meal the hulking damned lunged at Otis. Vadim’s helm, still atop his head, struck Otis’ shield right in the center. The force of the blow had the brute’s full strength and weight behind it. With a loud pop, Otis felt the bone in his forearm snap.
Otis, crying out in pain, staggered back a foot as he dropped his shield and grabbed his left arm protectively with his right. Constan interposed himself between Vadim and Otis and once again tried to strike him in
the head with his Spatha. Vadim’s arm shot out and grabbed Constan’s sword arm.
Constan tried to pull his arm free, but he couldn’t break Vadim’s bear trap like grip. The undead brute pulled Constan’s sword arm toward his gaping maw. Desperate Constan dropped his shield and drew his ax with his left hand. Moments before Vadim’s teeth could bite down on Constan’s fingers, now balled in a fist, Constan delivered an ax blow.
Missing Vadim’s head, the ax struck him in the right shoulder. Purple ichor oozed from the new wound, “God, please forgive me of my sins.” Constan prayed as his end became evident. Vadim’s hungry teeth bit down greedily as Constan’s fist entered his gaping maw.
Time seemed to stand still and the moment stretched out. Constan felt the pressure of those teeth on his skin. In the same instant, a Spatha burst from Vadim’s left eye socket, and he toppled off the wall into the city below. Hagan smiled as he dropped to his knees and begged, “Kill me.” He paused to take a raspy breath and coughed up blood, “Kill me now before I turn.”
Hagan looked up at the dark clouds above. The pouring rain washed the blood from his gaping shoulder wound as quickly as it bled out, “God, please end my pain and pull me to your breast. I’m ready.”
Constan, frantic, ignored the plea and looked at his hand, “Thank God in heaven above, I’m not bit!”
The second proved to be costly as Hagan turned and lunged toward Constan. Otis, seeing the danger cried out, “Hagan, no!”
Otis lunged between Hagan and Constan. Hagan eagerly snatched Otis’ good arm and bit it. Without warning Hagan’s head was severed. The now bodyless head released Otis’ arm and fell to the palisade. Hadad looked down at Otis’ bleeding arm, “I’m sorry I wasn’t a moment sooner.”
Otis smiled and looked up at Damon, “Aye, ‘tis a shame.” He sighed deeply and then his eyes sought Damon’s, “Please, kill me before I turn.”
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 52
