Chapter 13.
“ARBEPHEST?” It was day light, sometime in the early morning. Arbicos had not found his way back to the tree under which he left Arbephest the night before, despite patrolling the forest throughout to ensure no one had followed them, before finding a place of vegetation to rest himself.
Now he could scour the branches and barks of the woodland in daylight he quickly tracked his route back to the colossal oak under which his brother laid. Still, he only stumbled upon the tree by sheer fortune. Circling its ancient trunk Arbicos followed the sight of Arbephest’s sandaled feet, he stepped out and gasped, lunging backwards. His heart raced. He raised a hand pressing it over his mouth. The young warlord fell to his knees in shock, he exhaled wheezing at the mutilated corpse of his old friend, now only recognisable by the scars on his upper abdomen, the rest was now nothing but bloody remains.
The veteran’s body had been dismembered, the half eaten interior of his body was strewn out across the forest floor, his face was unrecognisable, a mere bloody mess sat slumped against the vast tree, eaten by some unknown beast. Arbicos whimpered, crawling to the body on his knees.
Tears streamed down his cheeks. He became lost in a moment of profound disbelief and guilt. Trembling in shock his thoughts floated to the images in his dream, the sound of Haedra’s laughter carried hollow on the wind. For some time his gaze floated lifelessly though his dulled senses were abruptly re-awoken at a shuffle and crunch of dry forest vegetation disturbing the silence behind him.
He flinched and sprang to his feet, whirling around, Arbicos laid eyes upon a fawn, no older than two weeks, it stood and stared at him, not moving, not making a sound. The young male stared back for much time through blurry eyes before suddenly flinching again at the sound of another disturbance amidst the forest.
He began to huff uncontrollably. The invader’s war horn roared aloud incredibly close by. This time the sound did not cause him to cringe nor wince, it only caused a red mist to rise, shedding a fury through him that would have caused even his makers to pity the souls upon whom it was about to be expelled.
A scuffling of movement ruffled up the flora between the nearby trees. Arbicos quickly picked up the Athenian shield resting close to Arbephest’s desecrated body in his left hand. Had a thousand men stepped out from the entangling forest or one, the warlord would flee no longer, for his kinsman’s honour, he would fight or die.
The unscathed warrior stood tall as three males stumbled into the forest clearing. The men stared at the warlord as though they had never seen another human before. Two of the invaders were dressed in linen undergarments, covered by some metallic sheets, each man carried an opaque mallet. The male stood amidst them was dressed heavier than his peers.
Arbicos looked into his eyes, he was so young, his armour glistened gold under the strands of sunlight bursting through the tree canopies high above. The warlord became lost in the strangely bronze tone of brown in his target’s iris before his body instinctively shifted, he lunged a leg forward, unconsciously raising his shield arm to guard his face from a projectile hurled by one of the hostiles.
His reflexes unparalleled, the young warrior awaited the sound of his aegis being stricken. The male who had thrown the weapon approached Arbicos with haste along with his comrades. The moment that blunt metal thud rang out in the air he turned abruptly left swinging his shield, edge first, with unrestrained power. Its rim crunched into his target’s neck causing the slender male to twitch horrifically and collapse unconscious to the twigged forest floor.
Now the young armour clad male rained his weapon down upon the unyielding warlord. A second deflection echoed the sound of metal and rock into the dense air though the Athenian was not merely defending. As his shield repelled the hammer his arm fell and rotated wildly around coming down upon his target’s forearm like a colossal blunted axe. The blow shattered his ulna causing his weapon to drop and a shriek of pain to exhale from his lungs. Without a moment’s hesitation the warlord leapt forward swinging his shield back with might towards his third target.
His adversary’s hammer was smashed clean from his grasp before Arbicos swung his shield violently towards the young male’s neck, still flustered by the power and speed of his masterful opponent. A foul bone fracturing crunch resonated into the clearing and the life of the young boy evaporated.
For a final time, with most explosive power, Arbicos swung his shield back towards the final invader. He raised the bronze sheet up with a low grunt of frustration colliding brutally with the tall male’s chin. As his neck ricocheted violently in its socket the warlord thrust forward an arm grappling his enemy tightly by the throat. The young male breathed heavily for he was still in shock at the sight of his fallen kinsman. He stared into the eyes of his enemy who had lost all nerve to fight. Arbicos wheezed, his eyes became engulfed with water before roaring in the face of the coward he strangled. Such power he possessed, the young warrior was surely woven from the same cloth as his makers.
His enemy’s eyes began to well with tears of fear before Arbicos hurled him to the ground, turning his back to look upon his dead kinsman. He released the aegis. As it too clumped upon the soft earth he fell upon his knees. The male who he had left to live hastily scurried away into the dense forest vegetation but the warlord paid no heed, he simply stared at his brethren through lost black eyes, unable to act for he was gripped by an overwhelming guilt.
He knew he had to return home, to gather the Hellenic armies before his people’s towns were overrun by this power from beyond the Pillars. After much time slumped in an unresponsive void his attention was brought back to reality. The lightest voices could be heard far away in the forest. With haste he lunged forward and unwillingly unbuckled the bloodied belt of his makers from around Arbephest’s corpse.
After a brief moment of surveillance he grasped one of the opaque hammers that lay upon the ground and was shocked for the weapon felt as though he carried nothing. With pace he turned and began his trek south towards Rhoma. Moving amidst the forest he heard his enemy’s war horn thunder out, causing the young male to break into sprint.
The Echoes of Solon Page 22