Nasir, with the damned removed from his back thanks to Sharven. Had been attempting to get to his feet, when the red robed damned lunged through the air, smashed into his chest, wrapped his arms around him, and tackled him to the ground. Nasir buckled under the weight of this new attacker and was driven to the ground once more. This time, his back struck the ground.
Fortunately, the back of his helmet absorbed the impact and Nasir did not break any additional bones. Unfortunately, the robed abomination sitting astride atop him had Nasir’s arms pinned to his side. Enjoying the moment, the damned sucked in the sweet smell of blood, paused and smiled down at Nasir. Nasir’s eyes met the damned’s soulless milky white orbs and in that moment, Nasir saw his impending death.
The damned, opened its mouth wide and dropped his head toward Nasir’s. For Nasir, able to do nothing, the moment seemingly stretched out into an eternity as the damned’s teeth seem to move in perfect clarity slow motion toward his exposed chin. He could make out every detail of the damned’s face. The grey skin, the faint purple veins below the skin, thin lips that parted to reveal sharp yellowing teeth, a prominent Roman nose the skin of which was torn slightly over the left nostril, and the two day’s growth worth of beard the man had when he was killed. Clearing his mind, Nasir began to pray, “Almighty God please keep Ma-“
Nasir’s prayer was abruptly cut off when the side of the damned’s head jerked sideways with a dull, thwack, “Keep me safe yourself, love.” Maarika said.
Nasir’s eyes met Maarika’s. In contrast to the soulless damned’s orbs, Maarika’s eys was filled with warmth and love. Nasir’s heart warmed as he began to get to his feet. Back in the foyer the pounding on the door abruptly ceased. Baltazar and Athos glanced at each other nervously as a giant inhuman roar reverberated throughout the city. It’s point of origin was just outside the closed and barred door.
The two men unconsciously stepped back from the door as a large dark figure crashed into it from the other side. The wood of the oaken doors, unable to contain the kinetic force of the blow, first cracked and then exploded into a shower of kindling. An immense creature, ignoring the two men to either side, locked eyes with Nasir in the courtyard beyond as he came to his feet. In a flash of black fur, the creature, bounded on all fours straight toward the injured Dekanos.
As the, whatever it was, barreled past Maarika, who managed to dive out of its path just in time, Nasir drew his Spatha. In the moment it took for Nasir to raise his blade to defend himself, he made eye contact with the being. His eyes immediately darted to the creature’s immense mouth, and sharp teeth. The monster, for that was surely what it was, opened its arms wide to engulf Nasir in a deadly hug. Nasir marveled at the nearly twelve-foot span of those arms as they were fully extended.
Nasir, a trained Skutatoi and veteran of many battles across a military career that spanned a dozen years, raised his Spatha up and prepared to strike the monstrosity before it could tackle him. He brought the blade down in a perfectly timed blur. The blade cleaved through black fur and skin. As it struck the bone of the damned’s head, Nasir’s right arm was numbed by the impact. Failing to penetrate the thick skull of the beast, the blade slid off the skull and buried itself in the thing’s shoulder.
Not breaking stride, the eight-hundred-pound body slammed into Nasir. The sickening sound of Nasir’s ribcage fracturing was nearly instantly followed by his scream. A fraction of a second later, the undead gorilla sank its teeth into Nasir’s head, and yanked it free from his body as the sound of his skull cracking reverberated throughout the courtyard. For the merest moment Nasir’s brain registered intense pressure and then nothingness.
Maarika, just coming to her feet, after dodging out of the way of the damned gorilla, saw Nasir’s head ripped from his body. She let out a blood curdling scream and fell to her knees. Behind her, with the door now smashed open, the foyer filled with the damned.
Chapter 62
Early Morning, October 19th 636, Joppa Road West of Jerusalem, Palestinia Province, Byzantium
The Line Must Hold
“Here they come again!” Yelled a nameless soldier.
Constan, astride Viribus, trotted back and forth behind the center of the line, “Give it to them 5th Babylon!”
A snarling, screaming, growling, wave of the damned, with teeth barred and often clicking together in anticipation of the feast that was to come, charged toward the thin line of soldiers atop the earthen wall. An hour into the battle the ditch that the men of the 5th Babylon had spent so much effort digging the evening before, was filled to the brim with the corpses of the damned. The newest wave of attackers was able to run right across the bodies of their fallen predecessors without pause.
As the damned reached the wall, the sound of skulls being split with ax and Spatha could be heard up and down the line. A runner from the north approached Constan. The middle-aged man pulled on Viribus’ reins to bring the mighty horse to a halt and looked down at the man. The man, his armor mostly gore free, was gulping down air as he waited for Constan to acknowledge him, “Report.”
“Sir, Droungarios Hovig sends his regards. Each new wave of the damned has explored further and further to the right. He believes that the next attack will discover our right flank.” The man said, in between breathes.
“Understood, they are doing the same on our left.” I’ve got to do something or we are going to be flanked. I should have established a reserve beyond Tovig’s handful of riders,
“Send the Droungarios my respects. Tell him to order the Kentarchia on the far right to abandon the wall and form a line anchored on the end of the next Kentarchia, but facing north. That should protect the flank. As the damned near discovering the new edge of the line have him slowly turn the line inward on itself. I’ll order the same for the left flank.”
The man gave Constan the imperial salute which consisted of forming a fist with his right hand, touching his heart, and extending the arm straight out in front of him, “At once, sir!”
The man turned and ran off toward the north. Constan then barked, “Tovig, I’m going to tend to the left flank. You have command here until I return.”
Tovig replied nervously, “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t worry all you have to do is stand here and bark the occasional word of encouragement. Then men will do the rest.” Constan said.
He pulled on Viribus’ reigns turning the horse to face south and kicked him in the flanks as he loosened the reins a bit. Viribus whinnied and accelerated into a canter. Constan then tightened his grip on the reins and held them firm, to prevent the spirited horse from breaking into a full gallop. As he rode along the line he glanced to his right.
Though the line was holding he could see that it had been thinned considerably in the last hour of fighting. Almighty God, please ensure that unholy whore Fonda, runs out of damned minions before my boys waver. Send your angels to sweep away her horde with your holy light. I fear we will not hold without ye. Constan pulled on the reigns sharply and turned Viribus to the right, facing the wall. As he was riding his eye caught something that was out of place. A single damned stood atop the wall. It was feeding on a fallen Skutatoi. He watched two more damned cross over the top of the earthen barrier and surprised the Skutatoi to the left and right. Constan bellowed, “Runner to me!” As he drew his Spatha and kicked Viribus in the flanks.
Before they reached the wall, Constan pulled on the left rein causing the horse to turn sharply. The damned, feasting on the fallen Skutatoi, ignored him as it pulled pieces of flesh from the fallen man’s abdomen. He raised his Spatha and brought it down on the damned’s head killing it. He then swung the blade at the damned to the left of the formerly feasting corpse cutting it off at the knees.
With the damned now legless below the knees, the Skutatoi that was being attacked in the flank, used his shield to push the other damned off the wall to buy himself a moment. Respite won, he then swung his ax. In a perfectly timed strike, the ax blade cleaved the legless damned’
s skull as gravity pulled it to the ground.
Constan then whirled around, and with a mighty blow, removed the legs of the damned to his right. Again, saving the flanked Skutatoi on the wall from a surprise attack. He finished the second damned he rendered legless with an overhead stroke that he brought down on the damned’s head as the beast tried to push itself up off the ground using its arms.
He then leapt off the horse and sealed the gap in the wall. What he saw chilled him to the bone. Up and down the line as far as the torch light revealed was writhing masses of the damned pressed up against his thin line of defenders. Though the line held, he could see the fatigue in the eyes of his men, and more importantly in the speed of their swings and slow reaction times.
Constan frowned and thought to himself, They are wearing down already. They have spent far too much time manning walls and gates and not enough time training. Fonda hasn’t let up the pressure for over an hour now. If she doesn’t back off soon, I fear they may drop from fatigue instead of the damned. Constan thought to himself.
A snarl came from ahead and he was forced to turn his attention back to the damned in front of him. He saw a damned man, his modesty barely concealed by the bloody rags that hung in tatters on his body pulling himself up the wall. Constan brought his Spatha down on the beast’s head with a dull crack the blade split bone and sank into brain. As he pulled on his Spatha to free it, he placed his left foot on the corpse and pushed with his foot freeing his blade.
Constan then slipped his Spatha into its sheathe on his left hip and drew his ax from the holster strapped to his back. He fought for several minutes, defeating damned after damned, as they tried to pull themselves up the wall and feast upon him. He had mentally slipped into a place he knew well. That place his mind went when he fought in battle. Conscious thought slipped away as his body obeyed his commands, block, swing, step back, duck, swing, and block again.
A voice from behind startled him and broke him out of his battle rhythm, “Your orders, sir?”
Constan visibly flinched at the unexpected voice from behind, recovering Constan said, “Ye gave me quite the fright.”
“Sorry, sir.” The nameless voice replied.
Constan paused a moment to bring his ax down onto the head of a damned that was quickly crawling up the wall toward him on all fours. He then kicked another in the face. The sound of the creature’s nose cracking pierced the night air as it tumbled back into the ditch. Constan glanced over his shoulder, but wasn’t able to make out anything more than a shadowy figure standing behind him, “Take over here. I need to get to our left flank.”
Constan heard the sound of an ax being drawn from a holster as the man replied, “Yes, sir.” A slight crack in his voice betrayed his anxiety at going into the line.
Constan put a hand on the Skutatoi’s shoulder and asked, “What’s your name, son?”
“Kerope.”
“Well, Kerope, ye have trained for this moment. Ye brothers are depending on ye to hold your little piece of the line. I know in my heart that ye will fight like a lion for them.” Constan said.
Kerope, stood up a little straighter and said, “Yes, sir. God be with you.”
“And with you.” Constan replied.
He then placed two fingers at the edge of his mouth and whistled loudly. From a short distance away, he heard a whinny and the sound of hooves thumping against the hard-packed soil approaching. A moment later Viribus emerged from the darkness.
Constan pulled himself up into the saddle, grabbed the reigns, pulled on the left one, and then kicked the horse in the flanks with both feet. Viribus, his reigns completely loose this time, took off in a full gallop. Constan smiled, as the wind roared in his ears and the line passed by in a blur to his right. As he reached the edge of the line and saw what was unfolding and his heart sank. Too late. He thought.
He pulled hard on the reigns, and watched as the damned horde flowed around the left edge of the southern flank. Within moments, Skutatoi were being pulled off the wall from behind and thrown to the ground. The cool night air was pierced by their screams as the damned fed.
From somewhere out in the darkness Fonda smiled and said, “My children, feed.”
Legion frowned and looked down at his sister standing to his right, “You’ve just found the edge of their line is all. They’ll figure it out quickly enough, make an adjustment, and hold.”
“Why do you put such faith in these men, Leonidas?” Fonda asked, and then added, “They are weak, mortal fools, barely fit to fill our gullets with their flesh.” Fonda asked.
“They are Skutatoi of the Empire, a finer band of brothers never existed. They will find a way to push you back.” Legion replied.
Fonda raised her arms to the sky with her palms held upward and her fingers outstretched and said, “They are the past, forsaken by God above.” She then dropped her arms and gestured to the damned horde around them, “Look around you, Leonidas, we are the future. We never tire and sleep, never need to rest, and we don’t age. We are immortal! Instead of calling us the damned, they should call us the blessed. The living have been provided to us, God’s new chosen people to feed our hunger. They now exist as mere cattle. Their destiny is to fill our gullets with their flesh.”
“If you are truly superior. Why are so many of you beasts without intelligence?” Legion shot back.
Fonda smiled up at the large man, “Every race is born as babes and must learn and grow. As time goes on more and more of us are connecting with the intelligence we knew in our former lives.”
“Even with growing intelligence, your children stand no chance against a well-trained and battle-hardened line of Skutatoi. They’ll figure out a way to hold the line.” Legion replied.
As the screams continued Fonda’s smile widened, “Well they had better hurry, it doesn’t sound like they have many more of them left.”
Constan’s eyes went wide at the tragedy that was unfolding before him. The damned flowed around the end of the line and surrounded the 30th Kentarchia, attacking them from behind as well as in front. Overwhelmed, the men were pulled to the ground and devoured. Hoping to stem the tide Constan barked, “Kentarches Arto!”
A voice replied from somewhere off to Constan’s right, “Sir?”
“I need you to swing your men around and face south. The 30th Kentarchia is flanked and going down.” Constan replied.
“At once, sir!” Kentarches Arto replied.
“Every other man I need you to step out of the line and form a new one facing south. Keep yourself anchored on the back of the last man in the existing line. Remaining men, step to your right to fill the gap. Move!” Arto roared.
Constan smiled as he watched fifty men break contact with the damned and quickly form a new line facing south. Arto’s voice pierced the darkness several more times, barking orders, until his full Kentarchia was lined up facing south. The new south facing line was anchored on the southernmost member of the 28th Kentarchia.
As the screams subsided, the 29th Kentarchia raised their shields and met the horde of damned that emerged out of the darkness. In the first few moments of contact, fighting eye to eye, dozens of the damned were cut down. As the moments, turned into minutes, and the minutes piled up, so too did the bodies of the fallen damned.
With each subsequent wave the horde drew closer and closer to the new left flank of the 29th Kentarchia, This is what must have happened to the edge of the line at Yarmuk. If we hadn’t been lined up in the middle of the army, we would have been quickly engulfed and slain like the rest. Constan thought to himself.
“Kentarches Grisha!” Constan barked.
A moment later Grisha responded, “Sir?”
“I need you to pull half your men out of the line and feed them into the south facing line.” Constan yelled.
“Yes, sir!”
As Grisha started barking orders to his men Constan yelled toward Kentarches Arto who was yelling encouragement to his men as they stood toe to toe with the damned. T
he 29th Kentarchia no longer had the benefit of their earthen wall to tower over the damned, “Kentarches Arto. Your line is fixing to get 50 more men from the 28th Kentarchia. As your line grows and their line shortens, I need you to execute a fighting withdrawal to keep your line anchored on the main one.”
“Understood, sir!” Kentarches Arto replied.
For a moment the sounds of splitting bone, growls, howls, and the screams of dying men were drowned out by the two Kentarches as they loudly barked orders to their men. Somewhere out in the darkness beyond the line of attacking damned Legion said to Fonda, “See, they are adapting.”
Fonda snorted in amusement, “It will not save them. My numbers will eventually tell. If they continue this strategy, we will ultimately surround them. As the minutes and hours slowly slide by, unlike my children, they will tire. Eventually they will faulter, and then we will feed.”
“Arto and Grisha, keep extending the line as needed in this manner as the bastards find our flank. I need go to the other end of the line and ensure they are doing the same before we lose the flank up north.” Constan said.
Both Kentarches paused for a moment, turned, and saluted Constan as they said in unison, “Yes, sir!”
Constan pulled on Viribus’ right reign and kicked him in the flanks with his feet. Then he held both reigns slackly. Thus released, Viribus eager to run, took off like an arrow fired from the bow of a mighty warrior. Within moments, the line to Constan’s left had turned to a blur and the wind roared in his ears. He smiled at the feeling of exhilaration and freedom he felt on the back of the mighty horse.
Looking up into the sky, he prayed, “God, I don’t think we are going to long survive this morning without ye help. Please give ye humble servants of the 5th Babylon the means to hold this line to buy the lad the time he needs to find your son’s cross. Once we have bought that time with our lives, please give whoever is left the means of escaping this damned horde, so that we may rally others to your banner and hold the line Satan’s darkness.
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 95
