Wrath of the Greimere

by Case C. Capehart

  Raegith dropped and swept her legs out from under her, to slow her momentum, but she rolled off her back and onto her feet in an instant. Her hand whipped out and the dagger flew right for his face as Raegith moved to follow up his sweep. With a slight panic, Raegith ignited his left hand and palmed the dagger out of the way.

  Chev’El lit upon the air and dropped on Raegith with a downward swing of her hatchet. Raegith caught it at the haft and wrenched it to the side. He stepped forward as his hand jerked across his body. He had put too much effort into disarming her and overreached.

  Chev’El hit the ground and summersaulted past him. He hadn’t overcalculated the amount of force; she had let go of her remaining weapon. Raegith turned as Chev’El sprung out of her tumble and turned in the air, crashing back-first into an Urufen in the circle. The Urufen shoved her forward, back into the arena with a howl. The twin daggers on the Urufen’s belt came with her and she charged into Raegith with a flurry of stabs.

  Needing both hands to deflect the blades, Raegith tried to kick her knee out, but she avoided the first kick and pressed even harder. Desperate, Raegith took her left blade halfway to the hilt in his shoulder and grabbed her right wrist. Using her momentum, he whipped her over his hip and slammed her to the ground.

  Slamming down with his left, he snapped her arm over his thigh and raised his fist, igniting it before smashing it down into her face.

  Then he stopped, just before throwing the punch to avoid the blade at his temple from going any further. The dagger in his shoulder had not been removed and he had rendered her other arm useless.

  “How the fuck did you-?” he asked before a bit of pressure from the tip drew blood.

  “I win,” Chev’El groaned through clenched teeth.

  “Not yet, you haven’t,” Raegith replied, nudging her blade with his temple with a barely perceptible motion. “You stopped just shy of winning.”

  Chev’El’s grimace widened and she shook. “Yield.”

  “That’s not how it works. You have to kill me, Chev’El.” Raegith traced the flicker of her gaze to his enflamed fist and then extinguished it with a soft grin.

  “Don’t,” she screamed. The knife trembled in her hand without the threat of death keeping her steady.

  “Just one more death, then you’re free.”

  “I can’t,” Chev’El cried, dropping the blade and sobbing. “Make it quick.”

  “I don’t think there’s any need for that.” Raegith got to his feet and yanked the dagger in his shoulder free. “What comes next is going to suck, but you’re tough; you’ll make it.”

  “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen you do, Grass-Hair.” Helkree came up to him and looked over his wound before gazing down at the weeping Twileen. “I really thought she’d do it.”

  “Torture and isolation couldn’t break her, because for her there was no hope. So I gave her some in the form of companionship… then I forced her to kill that hope.”

  Helkree looked on as Fenra and Naoko carried Chev’El to the bunk house that the Helcats had taken over for initiates. “So you want her to bear the mark of the Helcats? Do I get a say in this?”

  “Of course. You treat her like all the others, with one exception: if she can’t hack it or she refuses, then I have no more need of her.”

  Chapter 21

  Nero stood on the brink of the Pisces River and stared out across its waters to the Wilderness; enemy territory for over a year. “This will be the start, men. This is when we begin to reclaim what the Fates have given us.”

  Behind him, Paladins in scrubbed leather and polished steel armor raised their hammers to the sky in silence. Nero turned to look upon his strike team. Eleven men devoted to the Fates and trained to inflict divine retribution upon the enemy served under his command. They had lived under one roof for months during their entrance to the Order, training and praying and suffering together. He knew these men better than any he had served with under the 8th Regiment; their commitment to each other surpassed that of the standard soldier.

  Early in their training, Nero rose to the top of the class. Eager to prove himself to the man who restored his sense of purpose, he abandoned all other thoughts but how best to serve the Fates. He ignored letters from his family and from Helfria. He cleansed his mind of impure thoughts through self-flagellation, each scar on his back marking where weakness had been forcefully purged. The brands on his forearms, from holding aloft a scalding iron cauldron, were deeper than the others. When members of his group fell out, he shouldered their burden.

  In the end, Octavius Nero was the first of his group to be named Light Hand. He wept as High Paladin Andronicus bestowed upon him the gray, stone hammer he would always carry on him as a sign of his membership. Nothing in his life compared to the moment the men in charge of his Induction embraced him and called him “brother.”

  “Back to camp, Paladins.” The men fell in line behind him as he led the march.

  The Paladin camp paled in comparison to the formations Nero attended with the 8th Regiment, but the four columns of Paladins were not soldiers under Rellizbix. Other veterans of the army lead the remaining columns, with Paladin Judge Leyhea in command of the contingent. Leyhea stood nearly a foot taller than Nero and outweighed him by fifty pounds. As a Judge, he carried a massive warhammer and wore heavy, plate armor. The rest of the Paladins were mostly Light Hands and Devotees, leather-clad Paladins who used a shield and short sword with a longer blade and a different balance than the gladius he carried in the 8th. Light Hands were geared for quickness and maneuverability.

  Paladin Hayden was the lone Juggernaut in Nero’s strike team. Hayden wore heavy armor like Judge Leyhea and carried a massive, hundred-pound bulwark shield. He served as the team’s “arrow sponge” drawing fire and providing mobile cover for the Light Hands. High Paladin Andronicus created the specialty role after Nero briefed him on the tactics of the Greimere raiders, and how a lone archer had created openings in their formation.

  “See anything out there, Nero?” Leyhea approached him as his team entered the camp.

  Nero shook his head and remained behind as his men filed back to their tent. “It wasn’t a scouting mission, Judge. I just wanted to get another look; let the men see where we’re going when the time comes.”

  Judge Leyhea gripped his shoulder. “I’ve spoken to Colonel Hillis this morning when I visited the bridge. He says the Wolf Riders aren’t engaging anymore, but their presence in the woods near the bridge seems to have increased. He believes the Greimere are prepping for battle.”

  “I’m ready, Judge. I’ve swam with the rope three times now; I can make it across without fail.”

  The Judge smiled and nodded his approval. “Storm Line kids make the best swimmers, don’t they? Just make sure you have enough left in you once you reach the far shore to lead your men, Paladin.”

  Nero saluted the Judge and rejoined his men for evening prayer. During his meditation he thought of the blue-haired warrior. Had Chev’El been successful? If she hadn’t, would he be able to meet her again in combat?

  For months the 3rd and 4th regiments had tried without luck to retake land along the shore of the Pisces. Darklings, the name given to the lithe, dark-skinned warriors Nero faced during the Invasion, rode upon wolves as large as horses and as ferocious as bears. These Wolf Riders could appear from a still forest in an instant and tear through an entire platoon of armored Sabans and then fade right back into the trees. If the Wolf Riders didn’t appear, soldiers had to keep their eyes on the tree tops for goblins with their strange, mechanized bows.

  Rellizbix held both ends of Bard’s Bridge, one of the few not destroyed after the fall of Augustus and the evacuation of Fort Draymmond, but they held nothing beyond that. This made it easy for the Greimere to defend the Wilderness. Colonel Hillis, however, insisted that the Greimere would try to push into Rellizbix Proper. He advised Judge Leyhea that Thromdale had intelligence suggesting the new Greimere Warlord’s goal was the c
omplete destruction of Rellizbix.

  At Bard’s Bridge, a mixed brigade from the 3rd and 4th regiments prepared to repel an attempt to claim the bridge and with it access to Rellizbix Proper. High Paladin Andronicus sent the 1st Contingent of Holy Paladins south shortly after Nero’s graduation, to enhance the defensive force. However, Judge Leyhea refused to cede command to Colonel Hillis and insisted on camping miles east of the bridge without explaining why.

  …

  “You have everything memorized? There’s nothing else you want to go over with me before you leave?” Hitomi eyed Raegith and Qufeng while chewing on her lower lip. Qufeng shook her head, acknowledging her superior, but Raegith continued to watch Ardyx and marvel at the little Gimlet’s work on the statue of Beretta. “I can make the ride to the bridge. I’ll stay in the rear away from the fighting.”

  “I don’t believe you at all.” Raegith laughed at Hitomi, but continued to follow the Gimlet artist around as the Gimlet artist formed Beretta’s upper body from the stone block. Ardyx chisled little bits here and there, wiping away the dust as he went. “As soon as it even looks like we’re losing ground, you’ll dash away from me before I can stop you. I want you here looking after our home. I’m leaving Naoko here as well just to make sure you don’t leave.”

  “As if she could stop me.” Hitomi looked at Qufeng and sighed. “Tell me you have the strategy down… in case he forgets.”

  “She’s not one of your Blade Dancers anymore.” Raegith broke away from the statue, wrapped his arm around Qufeng and pulled her in close to him with a grin. “She’s a Pathwalker, now. I just made that name up, but damn, it fits.”

  Hitomi rolled her eyes. “Of all the females in this fort who would give their left tit for a night with you and you chum it up with the one Lokai who refuses to fuck you.”

  Qufeng gave her a blank stare, but Raegith burst into laughter. “You’re overthinking this, Hitomi. I know how to take a hint.”

  Raegith gripped Qufeng’s shoulder like a brother. “Qufeng doesn’t want my cock; she wants my enlightenment. Besides, Qufeng would crack a mirror if she ever looked into one.”

  Qufeng’s brow furrowed and she glared at Raegith. “You fucked Magda.”

  Raegith shook his head as if he had been jolted and twisted his face up. “How dare you. Magda has a beautiful soul.”

  Hitomi clapped her hands together in front of the two to gain their attention. “I’m serious. Can you do this without me?”

  “Of course he can.” The bellowing voice of Brimgor interrupted the three of them as the other generals followed behind him. “Grass-Hair has brought us this far through an ocean of blood. Two winters we have sat in comfort behind our walls fighting small fights here and there along the river. It’s finally time to get back to the business of war.”

  Beretta broke away from Brimgor’s side to approach the statue. As she neared, Ardyx saw her and immediately halted his work. The Gimlet dropped to the ground and bowed before the Infernal, but Beretta smiled and crouched before him.

  “Of all the Gimlets who pay respect to me, I cherish you the most, Ardyx. Your soul burns the brightest.” The flames atop Beretta’s head always darkened and calmed when she conversed with Ardyx. “I see it, even if others do not.”

  “All I see is a Gimlet who can’t even fire a crossbow,” Helkree scoffed. “There are braver Gimlets among us, Beretta, who are more deserving of your praise.”

  “The battlefield is not the only place bravery is found, Helkree of Edge.” Beretta was the only one in the Greimere who used Helkree’s cast-aside honorific. The Infernal patted Ardyx on the head. “I am honored you chose me for this piece, Ardyx. I look forward to seeing the final result.”

  The Gimlet’s grin took up most of his oblong face as when he looked up at her. As Beretta joined the others, Ardyx returned to his work in earnest.

  “We’re ready to move then?” Raegith looked at Helkree in her bone armor. She had smeared black war paint in two lines below her eyes and in a single line down the bridge of her nose. Her lavender hair had been freshly braided by one of the Helcat Initiates.

  Helkree nodded. “Our main force is awaiting your order. Our advance troops are on a stand-to. Yumiko has her Reapers on constant patrol to keep the pink-flesh busy.”

  Fenra bounced up to Raegith’s side giving Qufeng the evil eye and making a point of nuzzling close to him. Qufeng ignored the Urufen. Raegith gave Fenra a squeeze and then turned toward the gate.

  “This is it, then. We’ve held out here for a year longer than intended and it’s given us time to make this perfect. Today is the day we push into the heartland of Rellizbix.”

  Chapter 22

  The shout went up inside the Paladin camp and Nero exited the tent along with his men to watch as the flare soared into the sky to the West. There were no cheers, groans, or even whispers among the Paladins as they watched the signal light up the dawn sky. The highly-disciplined men stood in a silence so deep Nero could hear the battle begin.

  Within minutes, the entire contingent wore armor and readied themselves for battle. Nero and two of his men passed through the other Paladins, making their way directly to Judge Leyhea. Nero stood in just breeches and boots before the judge, as the men armor on him.

  “Your soul is at peace Light Hand Nero?” The judge met his gaze as the two men tugged and tightened straps about his chest. “Your heart is free of fear and your mind is open to the will of the Fates?”

  “They are.”

  “Then proceed. And may the Fate of Victory guide you.”

  Nero and his two men saluted and then marched off into the early morning fog. During the short trip to the river bank, Nero stilled his mind and pushed the jitters from his body. He had been the one entrusted with swimming the river to the other side and securing the line for their barge because he was the only Paladin among them who had swam such a distance before. Still, swimming was the easiest part of his mission; he already knew he could manage that. The true test would be when he found himself in combat for the first time since Duransk.

  At the bank, Nero and his comrades cleared away some dead foliage and pulled the long, thick rope free from where it lay hidden. Nero kicked off his boots and hooked the rope lanyard around his waist. The trio jogged upstream until they came to the end of the rope and Nero plunged into the river. The water did not reach his waist before the current took the rope and began pulling him westward.

  The anxiety of their upcoming mission made his kicks stronger and his strokes faster. He hit the halfway mark much more quickly than the previous swims, which troubled him. If he went too hard, he would have nothing left by the time he reached the far shore and there was still a long march and then a battle ahead.

  Nero slowed his pace, fighting against the urge to hit solid land as soon as possible. If he slowed too much, the current would carry him past the anchor point causing him to run out of rope before reaching land. At that point he would either cut the rope loose or drown. Both would doom the mission.

  On shaky legs, Nero touched rock beneath him and scrambled to stand up. He scanned the trees for the anchor point, finding it in seconds. He had beached way east, but still had the energy to fasten the rope to the anchor. Turning his gaze to the shore, he gave his men the signal for success as the rest of the contingent topped the hill and descended toward the river. In their midst, two columns of Paladins carried the colossal barge that would attach to the rope and ferry them across the Pisces.

  Nero slumped down against a tree and began to meditate to regain his stamina, as his comrades set about joining him.

  …

  On Raegith’s command, hundreds of Rathgar and Urufen warriors charged the line of Saban soldiers defending the southern end of the bridge. The Faeir Mages, too cowardly to join their Saban brothers in enemy territory, did not have the reach to add their devastating magic to the fight. This battle would be fought in close quarters with axe and sword.

  The disciplined Sabans held their g
round against the onslaught, forming up their shields and hacking with their short swords at anything breaching their wall. Raegith had never witnessed the true might of the Saban soldiers in a defensive action. They functioned like a mobile wall holding strong against the green and brown tide.

  Twileen Hunters marched in behind the Sabans and began to fire over their heads into the Greimere. Raegith clenched his fists. Even without the Mages, Rellizbix knew how to fight in the open. Raegith signaled to Beretta and the Infernal curled flame into the sky.

  Dozens of bolts shot out from the shrubbery along the bank and below the bridge cutting into the surprised Twileens. A minute later as the Hunters attempted to gauge the new threat, another volley of bolts fired into their ranks, scattering them.

  “New bolt-gun design very fast,” Giddix remarked, shaking his little fist with excitement. “Stupid pink fleshies never seen Gimlets in bushes. Gimlets ultimate surprise.”

  “Until one of those archers gets smart and fires an arrow into the bush, then your Gimlets will flee all the way back to the Hell Cliffs.” Helkree shifted her stance, fidgeting with her tomahawks. “I don’t like just standing here, Grass-Hair.”

  “We can’t rush this. Rellizbix is a nation built on war; underestimate them and they’ll stomp us out.” Raegith gave Beretta the next signal to pass on.

  Brimgor and Indie, along with half a dozen other heavily-armored Rathgar stormed out of the trees and across the field flanking the Saban wall to the East. Like the organized fighters they were, the Sabans shifted their shield wall to meet this new threat.

  Taking to the air, Indie hefted her executioner’s axe high. With a roar, Indie brought all her weight and strength down with a practiced move, buckling the soldier’s shield and flattening him. In an instant, Brimgor charged through the hole before the other soldiers could close it. His Saban helmet soared over the crowd of armored soldiers. Screams rang out from behind the lines. Cleaving at their exposed backs, the Agillian sent the disciplined soldiers into chaos. Men turned to fight him, creating pores in the defense for other warriors to exploit.