Warhorn

by J Glenn Bauer

  “Ilimic! Shut the door!”

  The warrior chose his target and struck swiftly, the iron grieve on his leg smashed into Toribio’s head which snapped back and slapped against the edge of the trap. The giant warrior dropped from sight. Caros darted forward, but the warrior was already across the room and even as the door was swinging shut, kicked it back into the figure beyond.

  A cry of pain shot ice through Caros’ heart. Not again! Not now! He screamed his war cry and leaped at the figure. The warrior was fast, too fast. He spun and drove his sword at Caros. The blade punched into Caros’ cuirass and threw him back. Regaining his feet, he made to charge again, only to see the warrior drag the crying woman to her feet and with his left arm wrapped about her neck, spin around to face him. He stopped cold. His heart beating in anguish and fright for Ilimic.

  “Stop! Do not kill her! The siege is over, finished, you can walk away!”

  The warrior laughed hard and gratingly. “Over? You think? Has the castro fallen? Has Hannibal got his treasure? I think the war may be over, but the killing is not.” The warrior then wrenched the woman’s head up into his shoulder and her feet kicked for purchase as her small, white hands slapped and scratched at his arms. Caros growled in frustration until a calm voice spoke from behind him.

  “Warrior, know this, if that woman is hurt you will answer to the champion of Tagus, the man who saved the life of Hannibal on the walls of Sagunt, warrior hero of the Bastetani, and the one the Masulians call Caros the Claw. If you let her go that same man, who stands before you, will honour his word and allow you your freedom.”

  Berenger could not believe the words. This young warrior was the one that led the charge against him on the Tagus? The man struck by the javelin had been Hannibal himself and again this same warrior had been there? If this was the truth, then truly the gods were trying to teach him some lesson he could not fathom.

  “What is this whore to you?” He asked, trying to buy time to think. Her struggles were becoming feeble and her face had turned purple under the cascade of hair that covered it.

  “Careful warrior, her name is Ilimic and she is no whore, but the one I intend to make my wife.” Caros’ voice was taut and quivered with emotion as he watched her hands fall to her sides and body go limp. Berenger thought he must have been going insane when Caros mentioned Ilimic’s name. Had this warrior somehow learned what had happened to the woman all those months ago and followed him? Impossible! He felt the life leave her body and the throb of the pulse at her neck slowing. He faced impossible odds here, but at least he had killed Rose.

  “How does such a great warrior come to let his woman be taken to this place?”

  “I was not always a warrior. I used to be the son of a merchant. She was taken from me in that life and that is the reason I have become a blooded warrior.”

  No coincidence then. They were talking of the same woman. Berenger thought a moment. While he much preferred fighting to talking, in this instance it was possible he could talk his way out of the fix he was in. If the city and castro within had accepted terms then he would need to act fast to recover his gold and disappear. That was not going to happen while this Caros fellow and Saur knew how many men, had him trapped up here. He nodded and lowered his sword point.

  “You search for Ilimic? This is a curious coincidence as that is also why I am here. That and to kill that bitch you saw downstairs.”

  Caros was edging closer, staring at the hands of the woman. He tried to see her face, but her hair was in the way. “Let her down, you are choking her, she cannot take air for pity’s sake!”

  “No need to fear, this is not Ilimic.” Berenger let the woman fall to the floor.

  Caros blanched and his eyes took in the limp body, lips quivering as she gulped painfully for air. Caros felt Neugen’s hand on his shoulder.

  “It is not her, Caros.”

  His friend’s voice held the same relief he felt. Caros did not need to be told and he felt despair spreading through his chest. If she was not here then was he too late?

  “You said you were looking for Ilimic? Was that the truth and if so why?” Caros asked in a voice hoarse with emotion.

  “The woman you saw downstairs gathered maidens for the temple of Catubodua. My leading man brought your Ilimic here after she was taken from you.”

  “That does not explain why you were looking for her. If you think to fool us to save your life you have made a grave mistake.” Caros stood ready to attack.

  “My name is Berenger. I protected Ilimic once she was taken. Ever since I brought her here I have been plagued by guilt. Especially since I have heard what the high priestess used these maidens for. That is why I returned instead of escaping the city. To kill the creature downstairs and release Ilimic if she was still held here.”

  Caros choked the words out. “Wha... what are they used for?”

  “Carmesina, the high priestess, sacrifices them to Catubodua. She has done this since the siege began. I have lost count of the number of times I have heard their death cries.”

  “Neugen, search the other rooms, she must be here!” Caros cried in desperation, himself searching for other doorways. Berenger remained in the room above the fallen girl.

  “Careful Caros, I do not trust him.” To Berenger, “If not here then where could she be? Where do they go from here?”

  “The castro. That is where they are sacrificed.”

  “Stop saying that!” Caros spun back at Berenger. “She is still alive, I feel it.”

  Berenger just shrugged. “You are wasting time here. We are wasting time here. If she is alive that is where we will find her.”

  Neugen called warriors up from where they stood silently listening on the stairs. They surged through the remaining unsearched rooms. Finding nothing, they encircled the doorway to the room in which Berenger stood his ground. One look at the warrior confirmed to them that he would be a formidable foe and they would pay dearly if it came to combat.

  “Well now what? I came to rescue your Ilimic. If the city is fallen, let me go my way.” Berenger wanted desperately to extract himself from this hopeless stand off. He had one gambit left. “I fought honourably and I tried to do the honourable thing for Ilimic. I will take you to the temple to search for Ilimic, but give me your word that you will not try to put a blade through my gut.”

  Caros and Neugen glanced at one another. Caros looked at Berenger with mistrust, but his expression showed a sliver of hope. “Why should we trust you?”

  Berenger sighed deeply. “I know where the temple is and I know what the high priestess and her insane brother are like. They will likely slaughter all the girls there before surrendering. Like I said, I will help and not only for my freedom, but also to assuage this guilt I spoke of. You need to decide quickly, hero.”

  Hannibal smiled happily when Mago appeared on horseback, riding up the wide street leading to the castro. “Just in time, Mago. Looks like the castro is ours.” He jutted his chin at where the few remaining defenders were trudging through the gates and tossing their weapons onto a growing pile.

  “Not many of them were there? I want to see the merchants though, they are the ones with the wealth.” Mago commented dryly, making Hannibal glance back at him questioningly. Mago continued. “I have had trusted men searching all the public buildings, houses of the rich, everywhere. There’s not a grain of gold or silver to be found. They must have holed up in there with everything of value.”

  A feeling of disquiet came over Hannibal. He needed the plunder desperately. His warriors would want payment and a share of the spoils. He would not put it past the snakes that ruled the city to attempt to cheat him of the spoils he would claim as victor. Behind him, warriors of every race and nationality waited to be set loose in the castro to recover the spoils and they were also becoming restless.

  Maharbal spoke up. “Why wait Hannibal, the gates are open and the defenders all captive? Let us see what they are up to.”

  Hannibal wavered, n
ot wanting to appear hasty. He was the General-In-Command of Carthage’s colonies in Iberia, not a bloodthirsty brigand and needed to act as such.

  A cry went up from nearby. “Smoke! The castro is alight!”

  No! They had terms. They had been granted freedom. Hannibal roared in anger and whipped his mount forward, scattering captives and warriors alike as he charged the castro’s open gates.

  Berenger led Caros and his warriors through the maze of lanes and alleys to the castro wall. “Here it is. The tunnel runs under the wall and comes out beside the kitchens.” He approached an unassuming building amongst many more opulent structures. The door was battened fast from the inside. He gave it a kick that barely shook it. Grimacing he looked around. “It is pretty sturdy. We will need to ram it open.”

  Caros ordered his men to find a suitable object to use and they quickly brought a heavy wooden post they had dragged from one of the many barricades the defenders had thrown up. Two warriors wielded it and with four good swings, caved the door in. They surged inside and screams of fear issued out the doorway. Caros bolted into the building to discover a small group of fewer than a dozen men, women and children. They were well dressed, although their expensive garments were filthy and in disarray.

  “Please! Do not harm us, we have silver. Take it and let us live in the name of Endovex who is good.”

  Caros took in the pitiful group at a glance. “Give the silver to the warriors outside. Go!” He pointed at the open door to the street. The group scurried out with fearful glances all around as though expecting some trickery.

  One of the warriors already inside called. “Here! This looks like the passage.”

  He was on his knees, peering into a narrow, roughly hewn hole in the floor.

  Berenger approached. “Yes, that is it. Those people must have fled the castro, hoping to escape with their coin.”

  Without a word, Caros sheathed his falcata and dropped into the dark opening. Before him the darkness was complete and he shouted for a torch. One was quickly fashioned and passed down to him. With the flame lighting his way, Caros moved forward. The others followed into the narrow confines while Caros hurried on, his cuirass scraping the walls where rocks protruded unevenly. The passage was less than a single stadion long and Caros could soon see the end in the yellow torchlight. Holding the torch back, he saw natural light framing the dark rectangle of a wooden door. He saw no latch on this side and so pushed the door, first on one side and then the other when it remain firm. He pushed harder and was rewarded when the door creaked slowly open. He drew his falcata and shoved past the door into the dim light of the room beyond. It was a small room with a low ceiling and was filled with mouldy grain and rotten produce. Flies buzzed at his face as he skirted carefully through the sacks and crates. Neugen came up alongside him with Berenger close beside him.

  “The kitchens are alongside this room. We go through them and a hall beyond before ascending steps to the level the shrine is on. It is not far.”

  “Wait! Do you hear that?” Neugen made his way to the outer entrance to kitchens. Unearthy wails echoed from somewhere within the castro and the warriors spat to ward off the evil the cries augured.

  “I do not like this. I thought they had surrendered.” Neugen muttered.

  Unbidden thoughts of sacrifice and torture engulfed Caros’ imagination causing his breath to come in short gasps while sweat beaded his brow along the rim of his helm. Impatiently he charged forward, taking everyone by surprise. The kitchens were deserted, but Caros did not pause. He bolted through the empty rooms into and through a hall. Behind him, the distinctive slap of warriors’ sandals echoed as his men raced to keep pace with him. The wails resolved into hideous shrieks the deeper Caros ran. Berenger was at his shoulder and pointed the way. They turned a corner and Caros sprawled up the stone stairs hidden there.

  Berenger hauled him upright. “Nearly there Bastetani, just up these stairs and a little way further. Remember my help when this is done.”

  Caros shrugged him off and cursing at the pain from his bloodied toes, set off up the stairs. He reached the head of the stairs and ran into a wall of smoke. “Shit, what is this? The place is burning!”

  A hollow scream from his left jolted the hair at his neck upright. Berenger appeared with Neugen who immediately coughed, choking on the smoke.

  “This is bad! Who set the place afire?”

  Another drawn out scream rent the air making him grit his teeth.

  “This way!” Caros plunged into the clouds of black smoke, heading in the direction of the latest scream. Footfalls behind him reassured him of the presence of his friend and warriors. Without warning, he slammed into a body and rebounded into a wall, his cuirass clanging against the stonework. Panting, he held his blade at the ready and peered through the acrid clouds to see a figure crawling on all fours. He dived on the figure, planting his knee in the small of his back and driving him into the floor with a wheezing gasp. Caros grabbed his hair and jerked his head back, jabbing the point of his blade under his chin.

  “Who are you?” Before the captive could answer he noticed the burns and lacerations covering the neck and arms. The smell of seared flesh was sickening. The figure wheezed and coughed before slumping forward lifelessly. Caros turned him over and saw the figure was no warrior, but a matronly woman. Her bosom, arms and throat were burned black and she had deep lacerations in her left arm.

  “Take her downstairs, she will die here otherwise.” Caros ordered a warrior.

  Neugen pointed in the direction of another anguished scream. Again, he forced aside visions of Ilimic being abused and murdered by some blood hungry priestess and ran forward.

  The screams filtered through a pair of heavy doors on his left. Caros drove into them in a futile effort to break them open. Neugen and other warriors joined him and their combined effort caused a deep splintering crash. The doors fell partially open and for a heartbeat Caros saw the apparition of a tall woman and beyond her a huge, hideous shape rearing high in the room. Then smoke blocked the sight out although not the screams. On hearing the agony-warped cries, the warriors hurled themselves, cursing and yelling, at the doors with greater energy, until with a resounding crack, they crashed open fully.

  Caros stumbled to his knees inside the hall, his sword slipping from his hand and skittering across the stonework. The temple flickered with the orange glow from a fire that burned fiercely at the far end. In that flickering light, he saw a knot of people moving towards him, their drawn blades glinting with ominous intent. He snarled, grabbed his fallen falcata and surged to his feet.

  A shrill voice screamed from near the fire. “Kill the defilers! Kill them all!”

  Neugen stood beside Caros while the other warriors spread to either side of the pair. “Looks like we found the temple. Do you see Ilimic?”

  Caros thought he saw bound figures in the shadows beyond the fire. “No, but we will need to sort this lot out first.” He stepped forward, feeling naked without his shield. “Sagunt is fallen! Lay down your weapons and submit!” He shouted.

  His words only enraged the approaching warriors who snarled and charged.

  “By Runeovex, they are insane! Hold!” Caros yelled to his men. They all still had their shields he noticed enviously. The attacking warriors reached the, a shield wielded by a burly warrior slamming forcefully into him. He grabbed the rim of the shield with his left hand as he stumbled back, dragging the shield down. He lifted his falcata to stab the warrior, but was forced to parried a sweeping cut aimed at his head before a second blow of the warrior’s shield knocked him to his haunches. The warrior swung his falcata at Caros, roaring through his full beard. Caros rolled under the blow and hacked at the man’s ankles. He felt a massive blow to his back, but the cuirass deflected the blade’s edge. Twisting frantically onto his back, Caros saw Neugen plunged his falcata into the warrior’s kidneys, withdraw the blade and slice it viciously through the man’s throat. Caros scrambled and rolled to avoid thrusting spe
ars from other warriors, expecting the bite of a blade at any moment.

  Seeing a gap open behind two grappling warriors, he cleared the main clash unharmed and came swiftly to his feet. Turning to the alter, he gasped as an axe wielding warrior hacked at him, but his sudden turn saw the axe head bite the space beyond him, nevertheless the haft still struck a massive blow to his chest. His attacker cursed and heaved the heavy war axe back to deliver another blow. The panic and anxiety Caros had experienced since learning of Ilimic’s fate turned to battle rage and with a roar, he charged the warrior. He fastened his left fist around the axe handle and jerked the warrior forward while he thrust the falcata deep into the axeman’s neck. The blade scraped bone and he jerked it to the side as he pulled it free and released the axe to let the warrior stagger backwards and fall gurgling across a bench. His men were holding their own and now that he was beyond the surging mass of warriors and combat he seized the opportunity and ran towards the fire and the bound figures he had glimpsed. The enormous figure he had previously seen reared up in front of him and he pulled up sharply before realising it was just a shadow, He cursed and saw standing before the fire, a figure holding up its arms, a blade gripped in one hand, chanting. He ran forward and the figure resolved into that of a short, plump man. Caros spat out a dry laugh at the incongruous little figure whose shadow was his most fearsome aspect. Bile burned up his throat though when he noticed a figure, prone at the little man’s feet.

  Spread-eagled and naked on a stone block, a woman was bound and secured at both ankles and wrists. Caros gagged at the wounds on the woman’s body. This was where the maids were sacrificed and here lay one of the unfortunate victims. He glared at the tiny man, noticing that he was naked and worse, aroused. What kind of vile beast could do this? He hurled himself between overturned benches, making for the creature. Something bit deep into his shoulder, knocking him half way around and onto his haunches. Agony flared through his shoulder and neck. A long, slender shaft was buried in his right shoulder. With a growl he looked up from where he crouched.