by Dave Oliver
They walked up to the back line of Wardens and looked for an opening to join in the fight.
“Who’s in charge?” Casselle yelled.
Dint turned around and gave her a horrified look.
Casselle climbed through the press and got near enough to talk to him. “What’s the report here?”
Dint stuttered and stumbled, drooling a bit.
“Hey, Dint. It’s going to be fine. Just tell me what we’re dealing with.”
He took a breath and cleared his throat. “They don’t die. Look.” He pointed at a soldier stabbing at an enemy with a spear. The weapon made solid purchase, and bright red blood spilled down the pure white figure’s armor, but it didn’t stop. It struck back without any reaction. The Warden took a hit in the arm and fell back.
“He just…took it.”
Dint nodded emphatically. “Yeah. The only ones who stop are the ones we hack to pieces, but not all of us have slashing weapons.”
Casselle looked down at her rapier. That wasn’t going to do any good here.
“All right,” Casselle called. “We’re heading back to the barracks to regroup and rearm with better weapons. Follow me.” She climbed out of the crowd and back out onto the main street.
The rear line of Wardens broke and followed her. The front line remained engaged until they could safely move away. The Zahl forces didn’t pursue like a normal army would during a rout. They just slowly advanced together, remaining in their perfect formation. A wave of relief hit Casselle as she realized they weren’t going to be chased.
The Wardens moved down the street. It was mostly abandoned already. Some bodies lay about the cobbles—some normal and some Zahl. There were buildings on fire, windows broken, and a few animals running wild. It was like the whole city had collapsed in a single moment. They pressed on until they reached Patron Row.
When they turned the corner to march the homestretch toward the August Quarter, they came into contact with an impossibly tall and thin man with a featureless face and a sleek white body. He slowly turned toward them. Her Wardens all stood with their swords drawn, too scared to engage. There was a terrifying familiarity to him. Something deep inside her knew him. This…thing was called Glory, and her fight-or-flight instinct made a decision. She motioned for Dint’s soldiers to move to Glory’s flank.
“He’s alone,” Casselle yelled. “Let’s end him and make our way through to the barracks.” Her group moved silently into position, and they charged the enemy. Dint was among the first to engage, and Casselle watched helplessly as Glory ripped his weapon away and struck him with a flat palm. Dint exploded in a mess of blood, bone, and metal. Casselle stopped to wipe the blood from her eyes.
“Casselle!”
She looked over to see Elress throwing a sword her way. She backed up a step and let it clatter to the ground before picking it up. It was a scimitar. She slid her rapier back into its sheath and gripped her new sword tight. She didn’t have much practice with this kind of weapon, but she’d make it work. She joined the fight.
Glory moved with an effortless alacrity that was disheartening to see in action. Every strike, every coordinated assault—all were turned away with gentle parries by those disgusting spindly fingers of his. Casselle could’ve sworn she heard a low laughter coming from his mouthless visage somehow.
Her forces started taking losses, and nobody was really hurting this…thing. She thought about calling for a retreat, but she noticed Elress had managed to get herself on the roof of a nearby patron house. She drew two daggers and dove on top of Glory. They sank deep into his shoulders and she swung her body down hard while keeping a grip on them. She descended, daggers ripping large gashes in Glory’s back.
Glory turned to swing at her, but she had already let go of her weapons and fallen to the ground. She drew her falchion quickly from its sheath in a wide horizontal strike, which took a chunk out of Glory’s leg. She hopped back before he could react and retreated to a safe distance near Casselle.
“That was…”
“Pretty lucky,” Elress said, catching her breath. “Not going to be able to do that again. Looks like I pissed him off.”
The two entered a defensive stance and prepared themselves for the inevitable counterattack.
“And away!” a yell came from the west.
Dozens of chakrams flew through the air toward Glory. He turned and deflected them, but it cost him some small wounds on his hands and arms.
Kore Belleas, the commander of the Ward, dismounted his horse and gave it a smack on the rear. It took off down Patron Row away from the monster ahead. He drew his gladius and one of his elites helped him attach his shield. The rest of the elites fanned out around him and prepared themselves for an attack.
It’d been almost two decades since she’d seen the full battle regalia of the commander of the Ward, and it brought back a thousand memories of her father donning it for special Ward events. Unlike the traditional purple and silver of the Ward and the military, Kore and his elites wore armor that was a dark pitch with gold inlay forming intricate patterns. Her father had told her it was called shadow plate, and it was made from an incredibly dense—and even more incredibly expensive—ore found far in the north. On the battlefield, it was nearly impenetrable.
“Bring. Him. Down,” Kore yelled. He and his elites all charged at Glory.
“Now’s a good time, Wardens,” a voice called near Casselle and Elress. They looked to see Rust wink at them and then charge off toward the enemy. He cut a large gash in Glory’s leg and cackled loudly as he readied his next strike.
A low moan rumbled through the area. The cobbles of the road began to shake violently. Glory glowed a grand incandescent white, and a high-pitched noise filled the air. The attacking Wardens all covered their ears, but the noise was coming from inside their heads. Casselle watched as all the wounds on Glory began to close themselves. He swept the ground behind him with a hand, and it ripped sharply upward, launching Rust and Casselle’s group high into the air.
Glory turned and caught one of them, and he squeezed until the soldier popped in his grip. He threw the bloody mess of bone and steel to the ground and took a swipe at Rust. Rust brought up his sword to parry the strike, but it was unnaturally powerful. His sword and sword arm flew to the ground and skittered across the upheaved cobbles.
He crouched and held his bloody stump of a shoulder tight. He turned to Casselle and Elress. They looked at him and stood petrified. Glory had turned to engage Kore’s elites, so Rust gave them a nod.
Elress took that as her cue to attack, so she rushed in with her sword drawn.
Casselle interpreted the nod differently. She ran.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
People were screaming in every direction. The wondrous city was now a madhouse. People ran past Fierd and Karedess, bloody and wailing.
“We have to find Mama! She could be in trouble,” Karedess said nervously.
Fierd nodded. “We need to get my gear real quick. Whatever’s happening, we need to be prepared.” He knelt. “Hop on; be faster running that way.”
She climbed on and Fierd bolted back toward the house. The run was quick and they didn’t encounter anything hostile on the way. They threw the gate open and ran through the front door, slamming it behind them.
“What…what was that?” Mair asked. She was standing in the foyer, cowering with her hands over her head.
“Somethin’ bad,” Fierd answered. “Where are my weapons?”
“That noise. That light. I thought my head was going to—”
“My weapons!”
Mair looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “Still in the bathroom. I haven’t moved your things to be cleaned yet.”
He charged into the cleaning room and grabbed his hatchet holsters. He wrapped them around his patron garb and practiced sliding them in and out a few times. Then he picked up his slew of throwing knives. He looked around on his body for a place to put them before ultimately tucking them into
his fancy, smooth belt. It wasn’t perfect, and they jabbed into his thighs a bit when he walked, but he didn’t have time to change back into his old clothes.
He marched back into the foyer. He pointed at Mair and told her to hide. Then he pointed at Karedess. “You, on my back again. You’ll have to guide me to this courthouse.”
“Wait,” Mair said. “Where are you going? We need to stay safe.”
“We need to get this one’s mother. Get yourself a weapon and hole up somewhere. We’ll be back.”
“Yes. Yes, get the lady of the house. I’ll stay here.” She looked around frantically.
Karedess climbed on and they rushed out of the house. In the short time they’d been inside, a thick haze of smoke had covered the once-blue sky. It smelled like burning wood and charred meat. She pointed toward the steps they’d been heading toward just a minute or so earlier. He charged west and ran up the steps three at a time. As they approached the training field for the barracks, they were stopped by a large group of soldiers. They were impossibly white, including their armor and garb.
“What in the world?” Karedess said.
“Hmm?”
“Their armor. Look at their chests.”
Fierd saw that some of the soldiers had a large eagle emblazoned on the chest plate of their armor, but others had a large starburst on their armor instead.
“The starburst is the Holy City’s symbol. They changed it from a hawk when they got all worshippy and dropped the name Aggria. But the others are wearing our armor—the eagle of Ildia.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
The soldiers turned to the two and readied their weapons.
“Hey!” The shout came from a soldier near the barracks. “There’s Zahl swarming all over this area, and even more approaching from the east. You two need to get to safety.”
A door shattered behind the soldier and a handful of the white soldiers marched toward him. He swore and tripped as he ran away.
“Zahl? Like they wrote about in the Grand Propter?” Fierd said to himself.
“The courthouse is right over there,” Karedess said.
Fierd could see it off to their right. Part of it was on fire, but the entrance was unbarred and waiting for them. All they had to do was get through these…people.
Fierd knelt. “Get down. Things are about to get messy.”
Karedess eased from Fierd’s back and hid behind a large stone sculpture nearby. She watched as Fierd began breathing heavily and unsheathed his hatchets.
He wanted peace. He wanted a new life. But fighting had followed him even here. He hadn’t even gotten to enjoy a full day of relaxation in a new place. He supposed it was best to do the only thing he seemed able to. He charged.
He leapt on one of the soldiers in front and knocked him to the ground. He slammed his heel on the man’s face, causing it to erupt in a striking contrast of bright red blood on pale white flesh. He swung his hatchets, cleaving metal and meat to pieces.
The knights had impeccable formation and order, and no hint of fear or panic entered their ranks. These soldiers didn’t seem to care as they were cut down. He hadn’t been sure what sort of skill they might have, but they weren’t proving much of a challenge at all.
And then came the heat. The enemies were plentiful and willing this time. Let it come. For the first time, Fierd allowed the heat to course through him with no resistance. It overcame him—filled him. His attacks became faster and even more vicious. He ripped through the entire group stationed in front of the courthouse, his hatchets tearing through armor and flesh, and even his kicks and elbows were lethal strikes. He wasn’t ready to stop. His body compelled him to keep going. In this condition, he could take on the entire force of whatever this was. He could save the city. He could have his dream of a new life after all. He looked around for more enemies and saw none. There were sparse sounds of battle to the east toward the royal keep. He sprinted to engage them.
***
Karedess, barely able to follow what had just happened, found the area in front of the courtyard entirely empty of life now. She crept across the field toward the courthouse doors. She put her hand on one. It wasn’t warm, so this part must not have been on fire. Even if it was, what choice did she have? Mama had been in court last anyone knew. She had to check.
She pushed the giant door and it slowly creaked open. She was buffeted in the face by heat and smoke. She coughed and squinted her eyes. Wherever the fire was, it must have been further inside. There weren’t any flames in sight, just the soupy haze of smoke everywhere. Her eyes and lungs stung, and she found it hard to breathe with so much smoldering ash in the air. She left the door open to ventilate some of this mess and walked ahead.
It’d been a long time since she’d been inside the courthouse, but little had changed from what she remembered. The dark stone walls were still lined with stained glass renditions of the founding of Ildia, the various wars with the Provs, the forming of the Ryten Pact, and a lot of other historical events. Karedess remembered most of them, but she started to question why she had even bothered. Why study history and politics when everything can just be taken away in an attack like this? The stuff she’d learned with Fierd—handling a bow, hunting for food, making a fire—those were skills worth keeping. She wished she had taken the bow from Fierd’s pack. He certainly wasn’t going to use it, and even if she wasn’t the greatest shot in the world, it would’ve been comforting to have it with her.
She continued down the foyer until she reached the main hallway with several doors. She knew the ones on the side were offices, but she checked them anyway. The two offices on the right didn’t contain anything special. Desks were upturned and papers were all over the floor, but nobody was inside. The three offices on the left were in similar condition, though one had a hole in the wall leading back out to the field near the barracks. It was just as empty of people as the others though. She headed to the last set of doors, which led to the main theater.
She opened one of the doors as slowly and softly as she could and slid inside. The smell in here was terrible. She almost gagged on it. It was a mixture of human waste, cooked meat, and metal.
Her stomach lurched and she covered her mouth to keep it together. It didn’t look like anyone was in here, so her mama might still be okay. This was the theater where the patronage met to discuss stuff in an open forum. Fortunately, her mother was on the Directorate, which had a closed chamber to the rear of the building. It’d be easier to lock that up and keep the bad guys at bay. She walked down the steps to the bottom of the round hall and onto the main floor. She did her best to look straight ahead. She knew a lot of the patronage, so she didn’t want to see dead bodies in here. She didn’t know any of them well, of course, but her mother had made her attend all those boring functions and greet her guests at home, so she’d seen a lot of those people. What if she recognized one? How terrifying would that be? Best to keep moving.
She walked up the steps next to the judicator’s podium. She instinctively looked behind the lectern. On its hidden shelves were a set of keys, a small box of chocolates, a cup of tea, and a handful of lozenges. Karedess knelt down and picked up the cup. She put her face over it and inhaled deeply, trying to catch the aroma in the midst of the awful smell in this place. It was exactly what she thought—a still-warm cup of her mother’s favorite tea. She would drink it to soothe her throat after talking a lot, especially at a public event. She’d been here not long ago.
Karedess sat and leaned against the wall, staring upward. Her nerves were going crazy, and she needed a minute to collect herself. She looked up at the domed ceiling, clear glass that shone with the reds and oranges of the flames burning on outside. It looked so beautiful. It almost let her forget where she was. Those could just have been fireworks going on overhead. Maybe it was a parade for the army returning. They weren’t killing people, but instead everyone was celebrating their victory, just like they were supposed to. If only her imagination were pow
erful enough to filter out the smell, she’d have been in good shape.
After a minute of getting her head together, she pushed herself up and stumbled over to the door leading to the Directorate chambers. It was the most solid door in the courthouse, maybe in all of Ildia save for the castle door itself. She picked up the giant iron ring that served as the doorknob and slammed it against the wood three times. If anyone was inside, they’d hear it and at least ask who it was.
She stood there in silence. Nobody answered. They could’ve been too scared to. Or maybe they’d passed out from the fire. Karedess lifted the ring and pulled as hard as she could. The door was unlocked, so it lumbered open as she put her entire small frame into the effort. Once she’d gotten it open enough to pass through, she slipped into the room.
There was a large oak table against one wall with chairs toppled all around it. The walls were covered with paintings of the seven continents of Hejira, with strategic points marked all over Provenance. They also had most, if not all, of the major trade routes inked on each map. A large chandelier still hung over the center of the room, though it was unlit.
She had never been in this room before. This was where the most important decisions in Ildia were made. Even if the king had a decree, this was where it was decided how it would be implemented and told to the people. She put that out of her head and she looked for her mother. There weren’t any people in here, and there weren’t any other doors that she could see, but they had to be here somewhere. She was looking at the sconces near the hearth in the far rear of the room for some kind of switch when she heard something between a grunt and a moan.
She turned around and saw a large black creature. It had a huge, bulbous head and its skin had a smooth rubbery look. It was easily four times as tall as Karedess, so she stood petrified when she saw this thing towering over her. One of its long, thin arms uncurled and pointed at the floor in the middle of the room. It made that same half-grunt half-moan again and then slowly disappeared.