by Sandell Wall
“Come on then!” Aventine yelled through the pouring rain. “Come and taste my blade!”
Wary of her runeforged sword, the enemy overseer positioned his soldiers in a semi-circle around Aventine. They would rush her all at once, overwhelming her and trapping her weapon. Aventine prepared herself for pain and death, but fate was not done with her. Her armor flared to life. Runes blazed, burning like the rising sun. Strength filled her limbs. She felt her armor knit itself around her, hugging tight to form an impenetrable second skin.
The gods bless you, Narin!
“You should have fled with your master,” Aventine said to the Drathani before her.
Aventine saw understanding on the enemy overseer’s face. He raised the gauntlet on his hand, trying to communicate some new order to his soldiers. Aventine did not give him the chance. She charged, smashing through the line of soldiers and running straight at the overseer. Armored bodies went flying.
When she was five paces from the overseer, he gave up on rallying his soldiers. Instead, he thrust his gauntleted hand toward her, palm open, and a thunderbolt shot forth. The lightning hit Aventine in the chest—she could feel the dread energy wrap itself around her, trying to find a weakness in her defenses. The overseer raised the gauntlet, aiming at her unprotected face.
She blocked the attack with her weapon, catching the lightning on her sword. Aventine was screaming now. Before her eyes, lightning coruscated up and down her runeforged blade. The power was incredible—she had to fight for every step. Without her rune-powered armor she would have been annihilated. Behind her, the enemy soldiers were on their feet again, and closing fast.
Aventine was trapped. If she dropped her sword, she was dead. It took every bit of focus and strength she possessed to fight back against the lightning onslaught. The enemy overseer took a step forward, pushing her back toward his soldiers. Aventine gritted her teeth, waiting for the blow from behind that would end her life.
The blow never came. Sizzling in the rain, the burning point of a rune-powered blade exploded from the enemy overseer’s chest. His eyes went wide with shock and horror—he looked down in disbelief, and then slowly slumped to the ground, sliding off of the weapon that impaled him. Behind the dead overseer stood Narin, wielding a glowing broadsword.
Released from her desperate defense against the lightning, Aventine whirled, ready to strike down the remaining soldiers. They still charged her, but their precise coordination was gone. Now, they moved and fought as individuals, lacking the deadly cohesion and grace they had started the fight with.
With the Rune Guard at her back, Aventine rushed the stranded soldiers. Narin charged with her, and together they carved bloody ruin from the enemy. Without the power and direction of their overseer, the soldiers could not stand before Aventine. One-by-one, the enemy soldiers dropped. Screams of madness echoed off the high ceiling as the runeforged sword undid the runes enslaving the soldiers. On her right, Narin’s red-hot broadsword cleaved through armor and shield, spilling blood across the white stone floor.
When the last enemy fell, Aventine and Narin were standing before the emperor’s throne. Breathing hard, Aventine slumped, grounding her sword on the floor. Emperor Pontius looked down on them, a mix of adoration and awe on his thin face. He raised his spindly arms like he was going to offer a proclamation.
“Behold, my Rune Guard!” he thundered.
Aventine looked at Narin. The commander gave her a weary smile.
“I thought we lost you,” Narin said.
“Without this blade, you would have,” Aventine said. She lifted her sword in a weak salute.
“Thanks to a single sword, you saved the emperor’s life, and chased away the most powerful enemy we’ve ever faced,” Narin said. “I’ve been told five of those swords exist. If there are any more in Amalt, we’ll have to find them.”
“I can do better than that,” Aventine said. “I know the man who forged them.”
Narin’s eyes widened in surprise, but before she could respond, one of her soldiers approached from behind.
“Not all of the enemy is dead, commander,” he said. “What would you have us do with them?”
“They’re slaves,” Aventine blurted before Narin could reply. “If you take off their helmets, you’ll find runed circlets. I think they are controlled through those against their will.”
“Bind them, but keep them alive,” Narin said. “We need to learn as much about this foe as we can.”
“Yes, commander,” the soldier said, turning away after he saluted.
“What happened to Savaroth?” Narin asked. “One instant he was there, the other he was gone.”
“He used a teleportation runestone,” Aventine said, fear shooting through her. “With it, he can travel great distances in an instant. He must be back on the ship in the harbor.”
“If he has more soldiers—” Narin did not finish her thought. She whirled around, barking out new orders to the Rune Guard. “Back to the harbor! This fight isn’t over.”
Aventine returned the runeforged sword to its place on her back and jogged after Narin as the other woman sprinted from the throne room. With the skirmish over, the runes on Aventine’s armor were no longer glowing. Stripped of her rune-enhanced strength, her legs felt like lead. She followed behind the Rune Guard as they dashed back to the docks, but they outdistanced her and she arrived to find Narin already planning the next move.
The great ship was gone from the dock. Out at the mouth of the harbor, the massive vessel was leaving the bay and entering the open sea. With its great, runed sails unfurled, the ship picked up speed as Aventine watched. Burning brightly through the rain, the golden runes reflected like sunlight on the choppy water of the harbor. The ship crashed through the storm-tossed waves; it would disappear up the coast and be gone from sight in less than an hour.
“I don’t understand,” Aventine said as she stumbled to a stop next to Narin. “They just turned tail and ran?”
“It’s not over,” Narin said with a shake of her head, her mouth set in a grim line. “A witness says he saw figures leaving the ship. He counted at least twenty, not dressed like soldiers, and they moved fast, vanishing into the city.”
“That’s bad,” Aventine said. “They could be anywhere by now.”
“We have to split up,” Narin said. “I’ll take half of the Rune Guard present, you take the other half. Go through the streets and ask if anyone has seen anything strange. Warn them to be on their guard.”
“Be careful,” Aventine said. “Don’t underestimate the enemy. The gray-skinned soldiers always function as a unit, but the tall, thin ones fight like demons. If that’s what left the ship, don’t try to fight one alone.”
“I understand,” Narin said. “You be safe, too. I can’t afford to lose you now.”
Narin gathered the Rune Guard on the docks and explained the danger. She divided them into two squads, one following her, and the other going with Aventine. Soon they were leaving the harbor behind, Narin’s squad heading toward the castle, and Aventine’s toward the city walls.
At the head of her squad, Aventine walked in the middle of the filthy street. Rain pelted down from the gray sky, limiting visibility and making it hard to hear anything over the downpour. Crowds of refugees huddled under what little shelter they could find. Aventine was thankful for that, at least. It would have been impossible to move through the city with a mob of people blocking their way.
“Spread out,” Aventine ordered her soldiers. “Look for any signs of recent struggle or damage to doors and windows. The enemy agents will probably try to find hiding places where they can lie low and strike when we least expect it.”
They moved from street to street, investigating every alleyway and shack. She asked people at random if they had seen anything, but always the answer was no.
This is hopeless. There’s no way we can search a city this large for twenty people.
She was about to give up and order her soldiers back
to the castle when a blood-curdling scream came from a nearby building.
“Come on!” Aventine shouted to her soldiers, drawing her rune-powered daggers and rushing toward the sound of the cry. The scream had come from a two story building that looked like communal apartments given over to refugees. Slightly ajar, the single wooden door swung open when she pushed it aside. The first thing she saw was blood. It was splattered on the walls and pooled on the floor. A single set of red footprints disappeared around the corner. Hesitant now, Aventine stepped into the dim hallway. Dead bodies littered the corridor. These people had tried to fight. Some of them still gripped hammers and crude daggers.
The rest of her squad crowded in behind her. They moved from room to room, checking every apartment. What they found filled Aventine with revulsion. The refugees had been slaughtered. The killer did not discriminate. Women, children, and the elderly were all cut down alongside the men who had tried to defend them. She had never seen so much blood.
One of Aventine’s soldiers stumbled out of the building, retching. From the second floor, she heard a heavy thud. The killer was still inside. She dashed for the stairs, three of her squad close on her heels. When she reached the next level, she heard the sound of a struggle at the end of the hall. Ten doorways on each side, the narrow hall was lit only by a few holes cut in the ceiling. Rain dripped through the openings, splashing into the blood that covered the crude plank floor.
A gargled cry sounded from the last room on the left. Aventine took a step forward, but then froze as a nightmarish figure stepped into the hall. Illuminated by the skylight above, the creature looked like a ghoul from a child's tales. Tall, thin, yet covered in corded muscle, the thing was almost naked. It wore only rough-spun trousers that stopped above the knee. Its pale white skin was covered in the blood of its victims. Elongated and hideous, the thing’s face looked like it had been stretched to ridiculous proportions. Its too-thin head turned to regard Aventine with dead eyes. On its brow, a glowing rune-circlet looked like it had been burned into the flesh. Long, spider-like fingers clutched twin daggers.
She knew this creature. The Legion recruit that had bested her in Delgrath had looked exactly like this horrifying thing. It seemed to sense her gaze. Its lips parted to reveal a mouth full of huge, bloodstained teeth.
“Back to the abyss with you, fiend!” one of the Rune Guard behind Aventine bellowed. He lunged past Aventine and charged down the hallway, shield up, a spiked flail dangling in his grip.
“No!” Aventine shouted.
But it was too late. The grotesque creature dashed forward to meet the attack. The Rune Guard was strong and well-trained—he never stood a chance. He lashed out with his flail, swinging the weapon over the top of his shield. Without missing a step, the creature twisted its body, dodging the wild strike and slipping inside the Rune Guard’s defenses. Using one of the daggers like a claw, the hideous enemy hooked the top of the soldier’s shield and yanked it down. Already off-balance from his missed swing, the soldier stumbled toward the pale assassin. He did not even have the chance to cry out—the enemy’s second dagger slammed into his throat, puncturing both wind-pipe and spine. Aventine saw the bloody point of the blade protrude from the back of the soldier’s neck. Dead in an instant, he dropped like a sack of bones.
“Runes, on me!” Aventine shouted. Behind her, the two other guardsmen who had followed her to the second level put away their weapons and grabbed their runestones. A heartbeat later, the runes on Aventine’s armor flared, filling her tired limbs with strength.
In front of her, the creature stood over the dead Rune Guard, blood dripping from its dagger. It watched her with hollow eyes. She took a step forward, and its mouth twitched into a wicked grin. In the blink of an eye, it was sprinting down the corridor toward her.
It’s too fast!
Aventine activated her twin daggers and braced herself. When the enemy was three paces away, she flung one of her daggers at its head. It ducked under the burning blade, slamming both of its daggers into her armored torso. Despite her rune-enhanced armor, she was knocked back, the heavy blows snatching the breath from her lungs. She risked a glance down—fresh gouges shined in the dark metal. The creature had almost punctured her armor with a simple steel blade.
With a hard yank, Aventine pulled the thrown dagger back into her hand. The enemy avoided the burning chain. It stalked toward her, moving in for the kill.
I can’t out-last this thing, defenses are useless.
“Give me speed!” Aventine shouted, hoping one of the Rune Guard behind her carried more than one runestone. In answer, the glowing runes on her armor changed. She was no longer invulnerable, but maybe now she could match the thing’s speed.
The pale assassin darted forward, striking out with one lanky arm. Aventine was ready. Moving faster than the enemy now, she dodged to the side, looping the burning chain that linked her daggers around the outstretched arm. With a savage jerk, she tightened the noose. Flesh sizzled as the chain melted through skin and bone. The severed limb dropped to the floor.
Aventine expected a scream, or at least a sickening awareness in the creature’s eyes of the grievous injury she had just inflicted, but it did not seem to care. Caught off-guard by the lack of reaction, Aventine had to throw herself backward to avoid a vicious slash. The point of the dagger scored another deep gash in her armor. The enemy pressed the advantage, stabbing and cutting with the single dagger, pushing her back until she bumped into the wall on the side of the hallway. Down one arm and bleeding profusely, the pale assassin was still a deadly opponent.
More Rune Guard had reached the second floor now. One of them carried a bow and as soon as there was a clear shot, let an arrow fly. The barbed point buried itself in the creature’s ribcage, causing it to falter. It was the opening Aventine needed. She surged forward, stabbing both of her fiery daggers into the pale flesh of the thing’s torso.
Filled with rage and horror over the atrocity this assassin had visited upon these innocent people, Aventine screamed as she lifted the creature on her blades. With two long strides, she crossed the hall, and slammed the impaled body into the opposite wall. Pinned in place by her daggers, the assassin tried to swipe at her with its dagger, but she ignored the weak and futile blows. She held on, watching the life drain from the thing’s grotesque face. It snapped at her with horse-like teeth, but soon both strength and life had bled from its wounds.
When she was sure the thing was dead, she withdrew her daggers and let them go dark. The body of the creature slumped to the floor. Aventine looked back toward the Rune Guard at the top of the stair. Their faces were a mix of horror and awe.
“That was one of twenty,” Aventine said. “Now you understand why they can’t be allowed to hide inside the city. No one would be safe.”
The only response she got were mute nods.
Aventine’s armor went dark and she stumbled. She was exhausted. The wound on her cheek throbbed, and she suspected her ribs were bruised from the assassin’s attacks. Gingerly, she navigated the staircase back to the first floor. When they were back in the street, she paused to catch her breath.
She was about to order them to continue the search when a horn blasted from the city walls. Dread filled Aventine’s heart.
No, please no. Not now.
A second horn answered, and then a third. Up and down the length of the city walls, the horns of warning blared their single note. Her Rune Guard looked to her, waiting for orders.
“Continue the search without me,” Aventine said. “I have to see what’s happening on the walls. You saw how dangerous that creature was. If you find another, fight it as a team. Don’t try to take it one-on-one.”
They nodded, responding with a chorus of assents.
“I need one if you to accompany me,” Aventine said. She pointed at a small brown-haired girl who looked even younger than she was. “You, come with me.”
Aventine sprinted toward the high walls of the city. She made for one of the
great towers; the staircase inside would deliver her to the battlements. House Drackon soldiers, clad in their black and gray, poured out of the barracks along the wall. Aventine and her Rune Guard companion joined to crush of soldiers climbing the many flights of stairs.
Hundreds of steps later, high above the city, they stumbled out of the dim staircase and onto the white stone ramparts. Before Aventine could look over the parapet, a savage voice called her name.
“Aventine, where is your commander?” the voice of Lady Athlain cut through the din. “Why are the two of you the only Rune Guard on the walls?”
Aventine turned to see Lady Athlain in all her glory. Clad in her spiked armor, a vicious looking whip coiled in her hand, Lady Athlain looked like a battle maiden of old. The leader of House Drackon stalked toward her.
“Commander Narin assured me that a siege would be avoided,” Lady Athlain said, spitting out Narin’s name like an insult. “She said Emperor Pontius would negotiate with the rebels and that they would never reach our walls.”
“That was the plan,” Aventine said. “The emperor’s emissaries were sent out a week ago.”
“Behold, the consequence of entrusting the safety of the emperor to cowards and fools,” Lady Athlain said, pointing out over the parapet. “Your plan failed, and now it’s up to my soldiers to defend the city.” She marched away, not waiting for Aventine’s response.
Aventine stepped to the edge of the wall and looked out over the approach to the city. Her breath caught in her throat. Arrayed in the fields before the walls, the rebel army covered the earth, ten thousands strong. Their numbers stretched out of sight, obscured by the torrential rain. Banners from a hundred houses rippled in the wind above the throng. And as she looked closer, she realized there were hundreds of silver soldiers standing in formation in the midst of the horde. Drathani legions were embedded in the rebel army.
Savaroth is behind all of this. He brought the empire to its knees, and now he’s moving in for the kill.