The Spirit of The Warrior: The Axton Empire book 1

by Ryan Copeland

  “Aye,” Trevin replied, turning to examine the tiring rangers. “Though I expect they would have done so without a word from either of us.”

  He departed from Tiberius and began passing the orders to the other sergeants and junior rangers in their ranks. None of them argued over their orders, for they were indeed beginning to tire after the long hike up the forest mountain. Yet they know despite their halt, they would always maintain their watch. Their loyalty to their commander and their empire was unbreakable, even against a small matter of snow and darkness. After a half-hour, they were bundled inside their leather-skinned sleeping bags. They lie three to a group with their backs pressed up to one another for warmth.

  After the rangers were hunkered down for the night, Tiberius and Trevin proceeded to walk amongst them, inspecting their hastily assembled camp as the sun set over the trees. They would often bend down to whisper some small form of instruction to one of the men before moving on with their inspection.

  The tall, ancient pine trees were swaying quietly in the evening breeze, and the full moon was rising now in the east when they saw it.

  Over the tree line, some ten miles off, a sickly green light burst high into the night sky so bright it made the darkening forest as bright as midday. Whatever small chatter there had been in the camp was silenced in an instant. Without a sound, each of the rangers were out of their sleeping bags in a flash, swords and bows drawn, preparing for whatever danger was to befall them.

  Trevin was first to the front of their formation next to their commander, eyes sharp, bow and arrow ready to fly. Followed behind Trevin were Zachary and Timothy, battle-hardened sergeants of the rangers. Like their First Sergeant, they had been veterans of the rangers and were inseparable from one another.

  “What in the hell was that?” Trevin exclaimed, all formality and rank abandoned in favor of decision and action.

  Tiberius, however, did not answer right away. He held his gaze to the light source, his mind working through what to do next. After a moment, he instructed Trevin to have the company of rangers withdraw their arms but remain vigilant. He aimed to take the three men himself into the woods and investigate it themselves.

  After a few brief orders were issued to the rangers staying behind, the three men prepared their weapons and moved into the woods as silent as wraiths. No torch did they carry to illuminate their path. The moon that had been shining down on them was enveloped in dark, ominous clouds rendering the frozen woods completely black. Yet, despite the lack of light to shine their way, not a single twig or branch was disturbed by their movements. Such was their skill honed from years of training and battle.

  A deep sick feeling of dread sprung up within him as they jogged through the woods. The genuine threat of a necromancer with potential droves of undead ahead of them sent his mind and spirit into a frenzy. He had fought scores of undead during the five-year war and knew them to be stupid creatures who could be surprised and killed without much effort. But a wizard was a different matter altogether.

  Long ago, he had encountered a necromancer himself when he was apprenticed to the Battle-Mages, and the idea of fighting such an unrelenting force without the skill of magic was not something he wanted to do. But the years of war and loss had tempered his youthful recklessness. He knew his rangers were well trained and would fight to their last breath, but he would not waste their lives, however brave they might be. He needed to approach this with caution, he reasoned. And to make sure he knew what he was getting his soldiers into before they attacked.

  After two hours of running, they could see their destination through the snow-covered woods at last. A large black mass of disturbed earth lay inside of a small clearing, not a common sight so far north away from civilized people. They slowed their pace to a stalk, wishing not to give away their presence to anyone who might have lingered. Yet even at their distance, nothing was moving around them save for the slow sway of the branches in the night air and the steady fall of fresh snow

  They crept to the edge of the tree line and looked upon what appeared at first glance to be a small rock quarry in the middle of a wide clearing. The smell of decay and dirt was fresh, along with a faint but strange nauseating odor that hung in the air. Tiberius was the first to emerge from the trees, followed by Trevin and Timothy, with Zachary providing watch over them with his bow pulled tight and ready. Tiberius methodically worked his way through the disturbed rocks that littered the ground around him, bending down now and then to check something on the ground.

  “Why the hell is a stone quarry this far in the woods?” Timothy asked, breaking the heavy silence.

  Tiberius bent low and moved some smaller rocks when he saw the rusted coins and rings on the floor bed. “This wasn’t a quarry, sergeant. The nearest quarry is fifty leagues from here, in the Clastifet’s Kingdom,” he replied with a low grunt. He stood from where he had knelt and turned to show his comrades the artifacts in his hand, “this was a burial ground.”

  “Rusty coins?” Timothy whispered in the dark.

  Tiberius bid Zachary join them in the clearing. “Aye, rusty coins. Yet these coins are not native to any civilization still in this world.”

  “They oddly look familiar though,” Timothy said, fingering the coins in his leader’s hand. “Where did they come from then?”

  “They look familiar because they are Narzethian,” Tiberius explained, his voice turning grim. “From nearly five hundred years ago, if I had to guess. See here the crossed spears under the spiked shield, the same emblem they carry today.”

  “Then what is this place?” Trevin asked.

  “Reason would tell me that we are standing in what was a burial site of theirs from their first invasions into our homeland.”

  “They buried their dead above ground?” Zachary asked in disgust. “What kind of heathens would do such a thing? We had known them to burn their dead, not entomb them.”

  "Ancient beliefs and ancient customs, my friend," Tiberius said, placing the coins in his cloak. "Our land was a land of evil to them and burning their dead would trap their souls here so that they would never pass into the afterlife. Instead, they were interred above it. I'm sure if someone had the time and inclination, they would find many burial sites like this scattered across our land."

  Timothy shook his head in confusion. “We didn’t even know this was here. How would someone else possibly know?”

  Tiberius didn’t reply. The mysteries of tonight were weighing him down and would have to wait for another time to be answered. The more pressing matter was not the discovery of this graveyard, but the confirmation in his mind that necromancy was still in practice within their empire. And how many of these twisted wizards or witches were at large in the woods?

  Trevin moved out amongst the rocks and stopped to the east of where they stood. "The tracks move out this way, sir," he said, stooping to examine some recently disturbed snow and dirt patch. "They aren't moving fast by the looks of it, but there are probably fifty of them or more. And they have almost a two-hour head start on us. There are also prints here that don't match the others."

  Tiberius shifted some rock under his black boots and pulled the shattered remains of a cauldron covered in green sludge up to his face. "That is assuredly the person responsible for tonight's evil deeds. But do not fret, my friends. I don't think this was a wizard," Tiberius declared with a small measure of comfort in his voice. "This was alchemy. Such as I've never seen, but nonetheless not a dark wizard out here in the woods."

  “I’ve never heard of an alchemist to brew something capable of raising the dead,” said Trevin.

  Tiberius dropped the pieces of the broken cauldron and turned to the three Rangers. "Neither have I, but an alchemist should not present too much of a challenge. It is the undead that goes with him I'm more worried about. We will have to fight them man-to-man, something the three of us are not prepared to do. Timothy, go back and bring the other men here as fast as you can." At this command, Timothy flew into the n
ight, silent and quick.

  “Trevin,” Tiberius continued, “take Zachary and scout a path ahead.” The men nodded and moved off east to scout the area.

  Tiberius sat upon a boulder in the makeshift cemetery, contemplating hard as to what his next move should be. If we move fast, we can overtake them within a day, but what will we find? And even then, what if our opponent is indeed a wizard? And how in the hell did someone know this was here indeed?

  These thoughts brought no comfort to him, but he weighed his apprehensions with his duty, and his duty always won the fight.

  He turned to survey the deep night sky. The snow had started falling in steady streams on his face and cloak, small flecks of stars were twinkling behind some ephemeral vale in the heavens above. His mind wandered back to the first time he set out on his first ranging nearly fifteen years after his apprenticeships with the Imperial military had ended.

  He remembered the beauty and wonder at seeing so many sights outside of the Imperial City for the first time. He remembered being struck with the notion that all within the borders of the empire was under their protection. Under his protection. The weight of such responsibility was foreign and overwhelming to him. Though now, after all he had endured, he carried it heavier than most would.

  After an hour, Trevin and Zachary returned from their scouting, breathing heavy but sure minded. “There is a clear path parallel to their movement we can follow. They look like they are moving due east from what we can tell,” Zachary reported.

  “Any sign of our foe?” Tiberius asked.

  “None,” Trevin replied. “No sign except for the trampled mess they have made. And the smell of rot and death hangs heavy for miles on end.”

  “Very well,” replied Tiberius. “Take your rest before the company arrives. I expect we’ll be off shortly after that.”

  Without another word, the two men found spots just outside the ring and began eating what little rations they still possessed. Tiberius himself not feeling hungry but needing something to do to take his mind off the impending hunt, allowed himself a little light in the dark and pulled out his pipe for a brief smoke. He looked at Trevin, who had unsheathed his sword and begun cleaning it. His strong hands and dark eyes worked the blade over meticulously for any sign of dullness or imperfection. Tiberius felt the ache in his heart grow

  The man is the consummate professional, he thought. I wish we had more time together away from our comrades. More time to talk and be together away from our life of battle and training.

  They had barely exchanged a small word of affection since returning from across the ocean. Trevin had promptly returned to his family's home in Uvomor, while Tiberius and his father walked and talked in the forests outside of the Imperial City.

  There will be time for love when this is over. When are oaths are finished and our duties are rescinded.

  Four hours later, the company of rangers joined their Commander and First Sergeant in the graveyard. A handful of the sergeants were first to Tiberius to learn what had happened. After a quick summary of all that had transpired, Tiberius ordered each sergeant to provide him with five of their troops to accompany him in their hunt. The rest of the rangers were to make for Waterford Village on the edge of the woods where they had first begun their journey.

  “We will meet with you in five days. If not, then make for the capital with all haste, and present these to the Emperor and High Sorcerer, and no one else,” he instructed, placing a handful of coins into one of his sergeant’s hands.

  The man stared wide-eyed at the coins and then at his commander. Questions were beginning to form on his young face, but his commander's stern look silenced all uncertainties inside him. Instead, he offered a simple nod and headed off with his fellow sergeants to issue their commander's orders. Tiberius allowed himself a small smile at their discipline and professionalism, traits often aspired to but rarely exhibited outside of his rangers.

  Ten minutes later the marching orders were given. The rangers departing for the village offered small hugs and handshakes to their comrades who were to remain behind and began to make their way back the way they had come. Dejection and regret were etched upon their faces as they walked. The lost privilege and honor of flying into combat with their comrades was almost shameful to the proud warriors, but orders would always trump personal pride.

  Tiberius watched them go with a melancholic feeling growing in his stomach. He had hoped to have put each of the new rangers to the test on this excursion, yet with all the uncertainty and overwhelming power that could await them, he dared not risk their lives. Besides, if they were to fall in battle, there had to be some to carry the message back to the capital.

  A few minutes later, they disappeared down the frozen rolling hill. He bowed his head and offered a silent prayer to The Warrior that his men reached their destination safely. He then turned to face the remaining men who were to follow him onward. Beneath their cloaks, he could see their faces were stern and frozen from the weather, but a spark of strength and determination to follow their commander wherever he may lead was burning bright in their clear eyes.

  No words were spoken, for none were needed. Each Ranger there knew their mission and knew their intention was to fight. He examined each of them, and after a nod of approval, he turned and headed along the unknown path that lay ahead of them with a speed and intensity that shocked them. The men wavered for a moment before moving out behind him, fanning wide to cover all paths ahead of them. Only Trevin and Zachary kept his pace, directing him onto the way they had scouted.

  Tiberius didn’t know how long it would take until they reached their unknown enemy. But none of that mattered. They would arrive and ready to fight and win. And if they didn’t win, then they would die in glory. Upholding the laws of their country, and finally fulfilling their oaths and duties.

  Chapter 2

  The Hunt

  A grey, featureless dawn began to break through the black veil of night. The forest around them seemed to spring to life with all manner of deer and birds out for their morning meal. Their wooded path had started to slowly turn down off the mountain they had been climbing, a welcome relief to the Rangers who continued to press their pace. Though they were all veterans of the military, none possessed the same experience that Tiberius and his three companions did. As such, they were not as prepared for the physical exertion they now found themselves forced to endure.

  Tiberius began to sense the exhaustion from the men behind him. Deciding now was as good as any time, he called a halt to their grueling march just after noon. The sergeants in his ranks, though beyond exhausted from their commander’s pace themselves, immediately went throughout the formation to check on their soldiers. When all of the men were found to still be in relatively good health, they each dropped their packs to rest. And began to form a camp along a small creek bed frozen over from the perpetual winter of the northern realm. They were no longer amongst the sharp inclines of the mountainside but were now seated in a vast valley of dead snow-covered trees. The lush green pines that had covered them all throughout the night were gone now, replaced by gnarled ancient trees that flecked the creek side. In the distance, small birds were tweeting happily after their noontime feasts had finished.

  “Who shall have the first watch?” Trevin asked, joining his Commander at the head of the formation.

  “I’ll take the watch. You’re my best fighter, and I need you sharp and focused for tonight.” Tiberius replied. Indeed, other than himself, Trevin was the most experienced ranger in their unit.

  “Yes, sir,” Trevin replied. “Though I wish you would give yourself some rest as well. This march you have pushed us on will surely have taken its toll on you as well.”

  Tiberius studied his beautiful face, beginning to discern Trevin’s spoken words from his intended words. In his mind he could practically hear Trevin say, “I know you are worried about us, but I worry about you too. And if anything evil should befall you because of your pride, I don’t know
if I could ever forgive myself.”

  Tiberius allowed himself a sweet smile and nodded. “I’ll take a small rest against that tree, I promise.”

  Trevin nodded and departed to the rest of their company. Soon after fires were started, bedrolls unfurled, food and water were removed from their small rucks, all in complete silence. They encamped in a circle throughout the creek bed, their backs facing just like the last time they had stopped for camp. Some of the men in the small group used this downtime to begin shaving their faces and heads. To their First Sergeant, it was clear these men were raised within the Imperial army. The ladies present, who also started to shave down the fuzz atop their heads, began to laugh at the struggle their male counterparts had in shaving their faces without a mirror to use. Tiberius, who was now seated apart from them on a broken-off tree stump, smiled at their humor. It was always good to keep morale high in the face of the looming battle.

  Yet once his rangers had quieted down, and begun to fall asleep one by one, he pulled his old worn pipe from within his cloak and began to smoke and brood over the deeds to soon befall them. A little while later, Zachary, Timothy, and Trevin joined him by his own low burning fire. The four of them had endured many tribulations over the years of war. Yet despite the disparity in their ranks and status, they had formed an unbreakable bond of brotherhood and friendship.

  “These kids are a tough bunch of bastards,” Timothy said, putting a small pinch of tobacco into his cheek.

  “You call them kids, yet forget that you’re still the youngest one here,” Trevin replied with a chuckle.

  Timothy smiled, his youth shining through his hardened face. He had joined the rangers in his twenty-second year, the same day as his best friend and fellow ranger Zachary. Despite his now ten years of service under Tiberius, his face still had the look of a boy barely out of his parents’ home. He did not mind it though. The truth was it did wonders at disarming people looking to fight him in the pubs back home and gaining the favor of one or two tavern wenches.