Chapter 12.
Arbicos seized his movements, immediately grasping at a wooden spear left amidst the camp’s grounds. He recognised that scream of pain, one he had heard on many an occasion whilst fighting beside his brother in arms.
The young warlord broke into sprint, his muscular body contracting and retracting with each heaving lunge he took towards the sound of his kinsman. The efforts to be subtle amidst the invader’s encampment were abolished. He charged carelessly across the sandy grass of the Northern Pinnacle.
With the roars of pain coming ever closer the young male caught sight of a small burning fire, the light flickered three strewn out shadows across the floor behind a tent which he approached with an ever increasing pace, urged onwards by pumping adrenaline for he could now hear talk in a language unknown in the distance behind him, and the disturbance of the light canvases that enclosed them.
Bounding past the tent that hid the shadows, Arbicos saw the source of the troubled moans. Arbephest was slumped lifelessly upon his knees, it seemed he had no fight left in him for a male was still prodding at his open wound, yet the warlord had ceased his roars of agony.
The two strangers scarcely had a chance to react as Arbicos’ shadowy face dashed into sight. They had heard his footsteps approaching though they could not have known who it was. The male that stood behind Arbephest had done little more than turn to face Arbicos before the warlord thrust the spear he carried with brutal power deep into his stomach.
Arbicos’ strength and adrenaline fuelled rage lifted his target cleanly up into the air, coming to a standing halt as the spear tip pierced his target’s skin. He stood straight, his powerful posture strong, the muscles in his arms and back striated with tension. His target let out a horrific shriek of agony, feeling the bronze spear head erupt out of his back, spraying blood and sinew into the air. The enraged warlord pushed hard forcing the spear right through his target’s abdomen. He made no sound upon colliding with the invader. He released the spear mercilessly the moment he felt it travel freely out of his victim’s back.
The invader fell through the air collapsing on the ground in a state of seizure. With muffled whimpers he writhed around on the floor before slowly falling silent and still. In the heat of the moment Arbicos did not consider pity nor remorse, he had witnessed what this man had done to his brother. The second male that restrained Arbephest had fled into the night. Much shouting could now be heard amidst the camp urging the young warlord to take hasty actions. He grasped at the garments enveloping Arbephest’s scarred head and was shocked at the wound he saw gaping from the back of it.
“You’re bleeding.” It appeared deep in the crude firelight and gushed blood at pulsing intervals.
“The work of a coward.” Arbephest spat blood on the ground holding his hands up to the young male who began to untie the linen restraining him. The stranger Arbicos had assaulted lay sprawled out lifelessly before the men, his hand had come to rest upon the edges of a circular metallic sheet covered by a pile of material. Arbicos looked down at it curiously before he and Arbephest cringed at the ghastly sound of their enemy’s horn of war.
The young warlord pushed away at the material and a strangely reassuring moment of relief overcame him, it was an Athenian shield.
“Here, carry this.” Arbicos handed Arbephest the light weight aegis that was resting upon the floor, he strained with great difficulty to lift his heavy brother up and support him. “Up to the trees, we’ll lose them up there.” The young warrior spoke quietly, beginning with great effort to drag Arbephest’s injured body towards the grassy hill leading up towards a dense forest. Upon any other occasion he would never have dreamed of venturing amidst the wildlife of its deceitful trees, for knowledge of what lurked amidst the branches, though the warriors had little other option.
Hobbling, Arbephest tried to comfort the injury on the back of his head with the garments that had been used to block his vision. His hand pressed against the open wound bringing a slight feeling of comfort despite the overwhelming pain that pounded away in his skull.
Under the cover of darkness they lurched up the steep hill to a tree line of towering trunks. Scrambling at the hill’s pinnacle, Arbephest collapsed in a heap upon one knee. He released a low moan of pain coming to a halt. He used the Athenian shield with a weak strain to hold himself up. Arbicos immediately stopped and allowed his brother a moments rest, he turned back to look down at the firelight some hundred meters back towards the shore but it had been extinguished.
Again the sound of those haunting horns erupted into the quiet night time air, resonating across the Hellenic hills, without doubt causing as much confusion to the wildlife of Arbicos’ home as it would to any man or woman whom the horrific pitch touched. He spun about and with a mighty roar lifted his brother back up to his feet, he took the shield from Arbephest and supported his whole body upon his own, literally carrying the veteran, he continued onwards into the forest.
As they trawled amongst the flora the two warlords could hear their enemy’s calls closing in upon them. It spurred Arbicos’ adrenaline increasing his pace of movement tremendously.
The young male breathed heavily, they had covered many hundreds of meters. Feeling his stamina begin to falter he struggled to move onwards even at a slow paced stumble. Arbephest continued holding the linen garment to the back of his head. He mumbled something to Arbicos but the young warlord could not understand his words, instead he stopped by the trunk of an enormous tree and let his kinsman down to lay.
Arbicos rest the Athenian shield down by Arbephest’s side and spoke quietly to him. “Stay here, Arbephest, I’ll search the surroundings in case we’re still pursued.”
“Arbicos…” Arbephest struggled to focus his eyes on his friend, he whispered through weak breaths. “The priest. They’re huge… they were,” he exhaled heavily and re-fixated his bloodshot eyes upon Arbicos, they rolled daintily in his skull as he gurgled on blood, “Anna...” He winced and began to blubber in the depths of his pain, squeezing his eyes together as if to prevent one great eruption of emotion, tears streamed down the battle scarred warrior’s face. Arbicos scrunched his own, blinking back the water. He knew not how to comfort his old friend.
“Shh, brother,” he whispered. “It’s ok, be quiet now, you may tell her yourself at first light. I won’t be long.” Arbephest did not truly acknowledge Arbicos. The young male made haste away from his resting place. Arbephest continued to wheeze desperately for some painstaking moments before joining the silence of the wilderness.
As his conscience cascaded away the veteran stared up beyond the tops of the trees. He had never noticed the stars before, how calm they seemed to be above him, watching him silently. Just watching. Anna stood alone in his mind. Arbephest was aware his senses were failing, he could feel himself falling into the darkness, still his wife stood, as beautiful as she had been and was. All he could do was lay. The injury on the back of his head throbbed with pain, he could not keep his eyes open any longer.
Slowly he fell away into slumber, yet it was briefly disturbed by the sound of padded steps somewhere close by. In his last conscious moments an incredible paranoia gripped him but he could not react to it, it was not merely the fact he could hear something approaching him that made him so paranoid though, it was the knowledge that he knew it was not human.
The Echoes of Solon Page 21