He’d also asked about the troop he’d be leading, the female archers. He found out that they had separate barracks that were almost exclusively run away pleasure slaves. Seth was stunned but Dagosh just laughed.
‘You find the right ones, with anger and revenge in their heart and not defeat and you’ve got a born killer’
Seth dashed up the main street screaming, the troop of Pellosi women archers at his back. Ten to his left and ten to his right, with the leather armour and vambraces of their trade. He had a new deadly respect for these kinds of troops after watching them train with the crossbows. The weapons were built lighter for women but held large dagger blades at the front for stabbing attacks. He held his sword low, knowing he’d have to do most of the close quarters fighting, and that they would protect him from a distance. Seth headed towards the main Keep and where he knew Renton’s room to be.
Flint had opted for the bloodiest path and led a group of men up the stairs to the left of the gate and straight onto the tower walls. He leapt up the stone stairs, taking the lead. His axe drawn, the pikemen he was leading still carried that weapon but had left their cumbersome shields below on the roadway; this was close fighting. The clang of sword on sword and the screams of battle was what started to wake the town. Up the stairs, Flint ran around a corner and, swinging his axe downward with incredible strength and fury, engaged the first guard he encountered.
The man was ready for him, having heard Rosen’s cries, but after a few exchanged cuts, his sword was knocked to the side and he was slashed bloodily with the backhand stroke. Flint and his force of twenty men surged around the wall, cutting a bloody path and knocking the opposing guardsmen to the hard stone ground, meters below. If someone cried quarter, it was granted and he was roughly stripped of sword, weapon and boots. It made escape much harder.
Flint was met halfway along the battlements by Stone, who had led another twenty men up the right side stairs of the wall. It was now clear of all guards except for them.
‘Should we raise the gate?’ Flint asked.
‘No, Seth wants it open, let all the chickens run free,’ said Flint, panting and wiping blood from both sides of his double headed axe.
Goldie, Grimm and Dagosh, had an equally dangerous task. While there were about fifty men on active patrol, mostly on the wall, the major body of the troop was in the barracks, supposedly sleeping. Rosen’s shouting and yelling had woken part of the town, but Seth’s men were running quickly towards the barracks.
Two main buildings loomed in their view. Goldie ran with his men towards the mess hall where they had been only a few days ago. He hit the door hard with his shoulder in a way that would have made Flint proud and continued to run into the room. Twenty or so guardsmen all stood in the room, hurriedly putting on pieces of armour and picking up weapons.
His pikemen all filled in behind him. Panting, he yelled, ‘We’re taking this keep for Duchess Elizebetha! Drop weapons if you’re loyal.’ It was something Seth had told them all to say. The men kept rushing to pick up their weapons, and one started reaching for a crossbow. ‘Kill them all!’ Goldie shouted. Lunging at the man with a crossbow, he pushed passed his fellows and cut him down with his broadsword.
The room was carnage. Pikemen moved forward, still in formation, and in five quick strides they had cleared across the room, thrusting their flat blade points into the swordsmen and taking them down.
Goldie didn’t even blink. ‘Next room!’ he shouted and pushed through the next door to the armoury.
Grimm had taken his men into the second building, which was the bunk room. He ran into it and was surrounded by at least one hundred guardsmen. This was it, the bulk of the troop. Dagosh surged in from a door at the back and quickly the pikemen had the flats of their blades against forty throats. Most of these men were only half clothed, few weapons and half awake.
Grimm shouted out, ‘We’re taking this keep for Duchess Elizebetha! If you’re loyal to her, sit down.’ At least half of the guards actually sat down on the floor. Grimm looked at one young man he had his own sword pointed at. He was only a teen and was close to tears. He sat down with a look of relief, dropping his sword as fast as he could. They pointed weapons at the men still standing. Grimm looked them over quickly and then, pointing to five with the most hate in their eyes: ‘Him, him, him, him and him.’ The pikemen standing in front of them didn’t hesitate but quickly thrust cold blades into them, killing them to the cries of the other men. ‘Men loyal to Elizebetha, sit your arses down!’ shouted Grimm. The rest of the men sat down. It was brutal but they needed to be cold to stop the defiance quickly.
Seth had left the gate wide open for a reason, and that was so the townspeople and guards had somewhere to run if they wanted to, he knew the guards with families would often sleep in their own beds in a soft troop like this. Groups of them were seen running from the gates with children and wives in tow, forgetting their duties. It wasn’t really fair to scare the hell out of people who were at least half on your side, but some fear would now save them. The twenty horsemen of the desert rode hard around the town, hoofs sounding loudly on the cobbles. They herded the Black Rock Keep traders, peasant and unarmed guards right out the gates. They found a few pockets of resistance, guards armed and fighting. The pockets were cut down from horseback with wicked heavy curved blades or shot with black arrows from their short bows.
Seth ran up the stairs of the main keep and through the wide open door. He was headed to the ducal bedchamber. He knew the door was wide open because he’d seen Rosen running through it, terrified, just moments before, followed by a good number of armed men.
‘Archers with me!’ he shouted again, knowing they still were.
He passed around a corner to face two guardsmen. He charged in with his broadsword, but with the sound of a whisper spinning next to him. They fell to arrows shot from behind as he came. So they swept through the Keep, at least ten guards falling to the volley from the crossbows. Seth heard a clang and a shot from behind him. He spun quickly and saw a man in the dark black of Renton’s household guard swinging a sword down into one of his archers.
The woman got her weapon up in front of the blade, which was blocked by the short dagger blade but the force of the hit cracked her crossbow in half as she staggered to the ground. Before the others could get their weapons pointed, he brought the sword down again. Seth lunged forward, blocking the blade and roughly tackling the man to the ground. With little more than a second thought, Seth brought a dagger up into the man’s stomach and twisted it hard. The man died under Seth, kicking hard, blood pouring for his wound onto Seth’s hands. Seth pushed himself off the ground and looked around the dark hall. All twenty of his troop still stood, some slightly panting and a bit shocked by the close call.
He looked at the shaken woman; she was as young as he. ‘Can you still fight?’ he said, more roughly than he intended. She stood up taller. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said looking at her broken crossbow. The Captain of the troop stood forward and gave the woman a back-up weapon, which was slung across her back, good thinking thought Seth.
Seth grinned at them all, some blood in his mouth from the tackle. He stood up tall and faced the corridor again, ready for more. ‘Archers with me!’ he shouted.
‘Yes, sir,’ they chanted back with passion.
At the end of the hallway was the main door for what he knew was Renton’s room. Seth could clearly see in his mind what lay in the room and knew he had Elizebetha to thank for the vision, he was so close to her now. In the far corner, Lord Renton stood holding Elizebetha, with a small silver blade to her aged neck. Rosen stood next to him, panting with exertion with a stolen sword in his hand, looking useless. On either side of the small double door were five men with raised swords in a deadly honour guard.
Seth turned back to his archers. ‘They are on the other side of the door. Five on each side with swords. Form a wedge.’ They did. ‘Now face outwards.’ They did. They were like the tip if a spear and him at the poi
nt. ‘I’m going through that door and you come in as quick as you can. They will be close up so make it count. You’ll get one shot from the crossbow and then it’s dagger point all the way’
The crossbow troop stood close to the door and, with a shout of ‘Lord Renton!’ just to confuse the enemy a little, Seth smashed into the door, went through it, hit the stone floor hard and started to roll as the sword blades started swinging down at him after a second of hesitation.
That hesitation cost them. Twice shadows and swords loomed over him as he fought to stand up and twice, they lurched to the side, an arrow in the eye, side of the neck. A guard right at the end roughly kicked Seth in the face as he fought to stand up. The boot connected hard with his jaw, sending him reeling back on the floor. The man jumped to straddle him and, with sword in backward grip, plunged it down. It never reached. The short dagger point of a cross bow thrust hard into his eye socket, send him sprawling off Seth, dying in bloody agony. Seth quickly stood up, his head ringing with pain. The Captain of the troop stood with the woman he’d saved, already loading more arrows after just saving him with the bloody thrust
The carnage was over. The guards were all dead in the space of moments, and Seth had the worst injuries of them all. ‘Right on door, left with me,’ Seth said, and half of the archers, all loading more arrows into their weapons, turned to guard the door and the others stood by him, covering Renton, who still held a now-trembling blade against Elizebetha’s throat. Rosen also stood, still slightly panting and pointing his sword vaguely at Elizebetha.
‘What did you do that for, Rosen?’ asked Seth.
‘Seth, pleased to introduce my skinflint business partner, in the caravan you came in on and many other ventures. Sorry to cause you so much trouble,’ he said with fear in his voice. ‘Please don’t kill me.’
‘You’re a fool you should have told me and worked with us. Now he really has gotten you killed. He probably paid those brigands too, you know,’ Seth said. He thought for a moment and then spoke. ‘Captain, left leg.’ He’d no sooner said the words than an arrow had been fired into Rosen’s left leg above the knee, sending him screaming to the floor and dropping his sword with a clang on the stonework.
Renton had fear in his eyes but also anger. A thin trickle of blood ran from the knife at Elizebetha’s neck and down the weathered skin of her neck.
‘Renton, you hold the advantage, what do you want?’ asked Seth.
‘It’s Lord Renton!’ he shouted. ‘And what I wanted was for your little army and you to die against these walls!’
‘It’s looking a bit late for that now. How about you let her go and we just spare your worthless life?’ Seth said.
‘I don’t believe you,’ he said, voice full of fear and anger as well. Seth could hear the voice of Yend speaking to him; he knew how to play this one.
Seth started laughing and lowered his sword completely, looking relaxed. ‘You?’ he laughed again. ‘You’re just a weak little child. A spoilt little boy. You’re a maggot, a worm; my slave army kicked your army to pieces in just moments,’ Seth said, taunting him.
‘Shut up,’ Renton said, ‘you goddamn savage bastard, I won’t listen to talk like that from you.’
Seth laughed again and gestured to the door. ‘Just go. I don’t care; you’re less than nothing to me. Once you’re gone, the people of the Keep will spit when they hear your name.’ He saw Renton roughly push Elizebetha to the side and, with a clear ring of metal, the man drew clear his rapier.
Seth and Renton faced each other across the small space. Broadsword to rapier and dagger in the backhand. He heard someone say, ‘Sir?’ in a questioning voice.
‘Hold arrows,’ he said, stepping back into a proper stance. Renton lunged forward and almost killed Seth. Seth moved almost too slowly but avoided the blade, lashing out with the broadsword. Renton jumped backward and lunged in three times, slashing at Seth with the dagger hand. Seth dodged backwards, barely avoiding a piercing thrust aimed at his exposed throat.
He’d under estimated Renton’s skill with a rapier, and it was clear Renton had taken more than one great swordsmen. So had Seth, but with a broadsword in his hand, he was at a disadvantage, unless . . . Seth realised he was fighting like the General and not like himself. With this weapon, it was all Seth, including the style and the new strength he’d never fully unleashed in battle. Seth leapt forward screaming and slashed downward with a giant stroke. Renton leapt to the side, having to move out of the way of the much heavier blade. Seth let loose a volley of cuts aimed at Renton and his sword, knocking the rapier from his numb hand. Renton thrust the dagger into Seth’s exposed upper arm. Seth dropped his own sword from the pain but, swinging back on instinct, smashed his heavy fist into Lord Renton’s finely boned face. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet with a bloody crunch, making him drop his blades. Renton hit the ground hard, clutching his face. Seth knelt down next to him and with his bleeding arm lifted his face and brought his fist into it again. Renton’s head hit the floor, unconscious.
After a moment, Seth stood slowly to his feet and turned to his troop of archers. They all looked at him with a kind of awe and pride. ‘Good work, all. Now, Captain, go find if Dagosh needs help in the barracks.’
Chapter 30
The lush bedroom was silent except for the soft crying of The Duchess Elizebetha, who sat crumpled on the floor, looking frailer than Seth had ever seen her and the silence created after a storm of violence. Renton lay on the ground, bloody dagger still clutched in his hand, face bloodied and broken but alive—as was Rosen, who had hit his head hard against the stone wall when he had collapsed.
‘It’s okay,’ Seth said to her softly. ‘Your brother is still alive.’
She looked up at Seth with the eyes of an eighty-year-old woman. Even when she’d come through the gate a few days ago, she’d looked much younger. ‘That’s the worst part, Seth. Now I have to decide again what to do with someone’s life,’ she said.
‘Do you need anything from him? Is there anything you need to know?’ Seth asked.
‘Not me, you. You need to know who is coming, exactly why and with how many men, don’t you?’ she asked.
‘I do,’ he said. ‘But you can just tell me; can’t you just see it?’
‘It is all a fog, he’s protecting it from me, I can see it’s the Duke of Twin Plains but that’s all’ she said
‘Well I can do it myself, you don’t need to be here, that’s my job after all’
As he said the words, Her Ladyship’s attendant, still alive but shaken and scared, wandered through the doorway and into the room. Seth had to admire that she tried not to look at the dead guards that littered the floor and only to Elizebetha. Seth reached out with his non-bloody hand and, taking Elizebetha’s, gently helped her to her feet. ‘Please get her cleaned up. We’ll need to talk to the people who are left and calm them, find out which guardsmen are loyal and not.’
Elizebetha was led quietly from the room by the woman, casting a last glance at her brother’s slowly breathing body on the floor. Just another reason for her to hate you, thought Seth. Still, he always had the strength to do what she couldn’t.
Boots tracking through what was now a large pool of blood, Seth walked to the door and, pushing the body of a dead guard to the side with his foot, shut it as best he could. Standing with his back to it, he started the chant in his mind. He saw the air darken and thicken and, when the silver rift in the air appeared, he called through the creature. It walked proudly into the room and paced slowly around. It sniffed with its Wolvern muzzle at the dead guards and then Rosen and Lord Renton.
‘I had faith in you, boy, all those many, many years ago, and you have not disappointed me at all. I felt in you the hunger and you deliver me from it. Tell me the words.’ The words boomed in his mind, but the creature did sound happy thinking of the feast to come. Lady Elizebetha would be appalled; she thought only of the need to take the brother, gathering of knowledge only. She would already
hate him, so Seth did something she would at least need and never take. He pointed to her brother’s form, lying still alive on the floor. ‘Take his body and give us the rest.’ As he thought the word ‘us,’ he imagined The Duchess Elizebetha.
The creature pounced on the still live body of Lord Renton and, with vicious power, ripped his throat out of his neck, he never even woke up. As the creature devoured, Seth felt the power hit him. Without knowing how, he channelled it. He took all the knowledge, all the memories, all the thoughts and personality. To Elizebetha, he pushed the years Renton had left, the life, the energy, the vigour. She would know what he did and surely she would look less aged, but so what? They were used to that here.
Without looking up from the body of Lord Renton as it ripped and chewed, the creature’s words sounded in Seth’s mind. ‘And what about the rest of them? All dead except the fat one; a waste to leave them.’
Seth started to laugh. ‘We’re not going to waste all of this,’ he said. ‘Take them all and give me the rest.’
‘Even the fat one?’ it said with a sound of almost distaste.
‘Even he. He might have something buried somewhere I can use’’
Seth heard a low rumble in his mind and knew it was the creature laughing as well. He squatted down where he stood blocking the door, watching it as it slowly went from man to man, tearing into their chests, devouring hearts and more, ripping, eating, enjoying. There were too many for it to devour them whole like it had the General, so it went from men to man feasting on only the finest parts. Feeling the rush of power and memories as each one found its way into him.
‘Boss? Boss? Seth, are you okay?’ The shouts from Grimm and Goldie woke him from where lay asleep at the foot of the broken door, surrounded by the now mauled and mutilated corpses of the Black Rock guardsmen and the Wolvern gone. Opening his eyes, Seth felt energy and strength he’d never had. He fairly glowed with vitality. The knife wound in his arm was not even a bruise on fine skin.
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